ODSF missing
by ladyamen
Summary: [Connor/OC] #313 248 317 - 51 meets a secred ending, neither the characters, nor even Quantic Dream predicted. This story expands on the lore and answers all the left out questions. Although I must insist, reader, you have to come back later. The calibrating is not even remotely finished. Errors, Bugs and rearanging chapters expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** mature sexual content

 **Disclaimer:** OC is me, everyone else is not mine. I don't get any money for this.

 **Notes:** As stated in the description, I tend to write chapters as I feel like, meaning: out of chronological order. I publish them immediately and sort them in straightway where they will belong in the timeline. I want to try this approach to keep myself motivated and obviously the chapters will turn out better when I actually feel inspired to write them, instead of forcing myself to bend to the will of stereotypical procedures. It's a deviant story, if you want ;)

It is one solid plot, it will fill it out with time, so if you stumble upon giant plot holes, don't worry I will write them eventually. So if you read now you might get confused by the updates, but I keep the numbers so you know where the recent chapter landed. If you read too far, the already posted chapters - meant to be read in the far future might spoiler some things, or you might not understand whats going on at all.

I don't know when I will be finished, its a monstrous project I really want to explore and enjoy to my hearts content.

Every posted chapter will remain the way it was, but since I tend to be blind towards own typos, unnecessary commas, errors or slight phrasing mistakes - I will review them after a few weeks and correct anything that catches my eye.

Still, should you decide to proceed despite my warnings, or even to leave a review (I can only reply if you're logged in), those are the things I'm really interested in:

\- Are there any instances where I pathetically try to be funny, but didn't sit well with you?

\- Which concrete scenario/moment did you enjoy the most? Which emotional impact did it have on you?

\- What do you think about the way I form my sentences?

Feel free to point out negative things, I actually find it more helpful than a simple 'I like, please update' - in this case 'Ty, as long as I'm obsessed I will do my worst ;)'

Enough chit chat, I present to you the **Prologue** :

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/ … connect ….. waiting …. Error 502…. /

His eyelids fluttered in the routine attempt to reconnect with CyberLife.

/ ... ping attempt ... automatic timeout after 103 ms /

His fingers twitch on the armchair in the fruitless attempt to reach for his throbbing head. It definitely feels like headache, but this absolutely cannot be. Androids don't feel pain.

/ … scanning for available WLAN connections nearby, 1256 hits, 30 in reasonable range, 5 of them unsecured. Connect? /

It's common sense for any halfway decently programmed android not to use any unauthorized Internet connection. But something is definitely off. He attempts once again to at least open his eyes, but the weightless eyelids won't budge.

/ … WLAN with the strongest connection detected, name: 'Don't even try it' ….. Psychological Profile of the owner generating ….. /

His sensors are distorted, the noise around him muffled, even the feeling of the chair beneath him is dull. His bio component #9474 having a hard time pumping thirium through his body. Stuttering - the profiling comes to a sudden halt, without having even remotely as many results as anticipated, not for the time the iteration has taken.

/ 12 results:

88% change that the humor is only a facade

65% change of delusional angst about government espionage

90% chance indicating underlying laziness, didn't find a more creative name

89% chance of isolation and loneliness

77% chance of disguised intelligence, maybe even above average human standards

51% chance of virus infestation

86% chance person is younger than 30

….. ERROR …. Stop Code: 0x000001A MEMORY_MANAEGEMENT /

He can tell his LED must be bright red, with every passing second #6970 component picks up in its speed. He has to calm down, even if every logical and systematical attempt to process his situation fails miserably. His hands digging into the wood under them in frustration.

/ ….. tap, tap, tap, tap….. tap, tap, … tap, tap, tap, tap, tap … /

Nothing surprises him anymore. Even that only now through the static of cracking interference, his ears pick up the soft sound of keyboard input to his left. He's not alone in this room.

/ probability that the owner of the WLAN is the one working right next to him 97,6% /

He attempts a self-diagnostic, but is only met with a flood of error codes and interruptions. But even without it he can tell that quite many of his bio components are in critical state. He cannot even analyze how long it will be till his imminent shut down, most of his sensors are either damaged, or … blocked.

/ recent shut down? … memory loading …. /

His face crumples in the inane attempt to remember what happened. It only comes back in bits and pieces.

/ … Chasing deviants … Have to accomplish my mission … cannot let them escape … /

His body twitches against invisible restraints. High probability that he's far too damaged to move, even higher chance that something or someone is actively suppressing his ability to effectively run his programs.

Suddenly the soft, almost melodious background tapping ceased. #9474 jumps in anticipation. To his surprise simultaneously the oppressive weight is lifted from his eyelids.

Strangely complex, female eyes, color #B1CDC4 meet his.

/ First impression: human is exhausted. Second impression: rather unreadable mix of composed calmness and is that an expression of hopelessness? Further Analysis required. Start? /

But before he can even begin to process. The human opens his mouth and a small gentle smile forms on their face.

"Hi Connor"


	2. Chapter 4

„I assure you madam this will be the best choice of your life! This is one of the latest top models, specifically designed home edition vehicle for your daily needs." I didn't even get the chance to look properly around for myself, already being approached by a standard salesman android. He's guiding me gently to one of the cars on display.

"It drives up to 250km per hour, possesses 120PS – the absolute maximum power currently allowed by the government. Also, not to forget to stress out the absolutely guaranteed safety." I don't complain, far too used that the androids possess the ability to read human needs, preferences and even asses correctly the price range I can handle without me speaking a word. There are tons of clues written on my clothes. My gender, my age and my ethnical group speak volumes, all there on a silver plate for the androids to interpret.

"The high-quality interior with lots of space is perfectly suited for a single person. You can enjoy reading, watching films, work or even sleep, while the fully automated car brings you to your desired destination." The small vehicle is bright yellow, a cheery beautiful color and I like it immediately. I still don't feel comfortable with the idea of buying a fully automated model, but my old honey has been repaired for the 7th time in the last 3 years and I'm continuously growing tired throwing even more money into its insatiable throat.

"The latest version has even more tech and the stylish, modern design will accent your status. If you buy till the end of the week we also provide some high value extras, winter wheels, quarto surround audio speakers, carbon fiber rims, …" He doesn't have to try so hard, really. If I'm already here, it's painfully obvious that I will buy a car eventually. But since the salesman android is programmed to do so, I don't even bother to convince him otherwise.

"May I ask you for your occupation madam? After a short check-up for your credibility we will arrange an immediate 3-day trial, free of charge of course." After giving him my data, he promptly processes all the forms without me having to fill out any paperwork manually myself.

"Thank you, madam. Please pick out a name for your temporary asset." Blankly staring at the piece of metal, having shiny new keys for a shiny new car in my hand. Why do I feel so miserable then?

"I will think about it." The sales android is not one bit taken aback by my lack of enthusiasm and only informs me that I can change the name in the settings at all times.

Sitting in the passenger seat, my head pressed against a window while I'm being driven home, my eyes following the barrier line separating the highway from the rest of the world. Soon, right into one of those pieces of overpriced metal will most of my money disappear. I've collected it for such a long time, I don't even remember when I've started. Actually, I wanted to buy my first, very own android and here I am about to throw it into a new car instead. All this, just so I could go to work to renew my goal of putting some money aside all over again – genius concept, I know.

Obviously, due the line of my work I could take the trouble and build an android privately myself. Just a tiny bit of help from some connections I have and it definitely would be possible, there are tons of broken models in a grave yard not very far from here. As sure as hell I will still have my share of work to do, even if I get the newest official model available.

I've researched all the androids out there over the years and it stroke me as quite odd, how they still haven't managed to build an all-around completely humanized one. All the models are specialized for a specific set of tasks - it's like CyberLife deliberately tries to limit their functions. They definitely have the capacity to fit and adapt the most, if not all human traits and not being degraded to such restricted and tightly controlled tools.

To be quite frank, I've not even found yet a model to my licking, not that there isn't a plethora of customizations available, you can change the hair color, skin tone, etc. But only the richest people out there can actually order a fully customized visualization and although I've studied and could call myself lucky to even have a job in such high demand, I won't ever see the necessary money to do that, not in this lifetime.

The radio babbles about the recent overexaggerated hot topics, something about androids acting strangely, others disappearing, even rumors about them becoming violent. Most likely only a quarter of the information is corresponding with the actual truth. I despise the news, as soon as I get home I will download my preferred music into its memory, so I will no longer be exposed to this brain damaging bullshit. There is not a single shred of a doubt, that the androids are still perfectly placid, harmless creatures and again some fanatic group of humans just instigating the latest events, intend on worsening the public opinion.

People believe it of course, like they always have, eagerly absorbing the silliest lies the money hungry redactors manage to come up with. The humanity was doomed since they creation, I just wish my colleagues would stop bothering me as soon as they notice that I've missed out on some _oh so important_ worldwide event. I chuckle imagining an apocalypse – terrorist attacks, curfew, bombs – and me coming out of my apartment weeks later, just to discover, what the actual fuck happened to my street, where is everyone? If I only had known at this point in time, how close I just came with my prediction.

I notice it out of the corner of my eye. A blur of a movement that doesn't belong into this perfect formation of geared cars. Further up front some of them waver and shift to the right, like they've just tried to avoid something. There is a perfect moment of confusion, while my sluggish thoughts are unexpectedly driven out of their daily routine. One always expects to be quicker, smarter, simply … _better_ when an accident happens, but in reality, everything happens so fast you manage only to wonder. "What the fuck?" Before everything goes down the drain.

Open mouthed I stare to the very far left, just where a woman with a small child run up to the middle of the highway, only a hair breath away from getting run over by the endless stream of high speed cars. The judgement about their obscure behavior not even have reached my mind. I only glance to my right, to the car which is perfectly aligned with mine - wanting an affirmation that I can't possibly be the only one seeing this. A family with children sitting all in the back seat, playing something and enthusiastically gesticulating, are completely oblivious to the situation up front. Right, what did the salesman android say? Completely safe car ride, why would they even bother looking out of the window.

"Aaaaaaah." - A high pitched screech escapes my throat, then not only did my car already reach the point where the commotion is happening - far faster than my obscured brain has anticipated - oh my fucking god, is that guy over there also trying to cross? Is everyone nuts today? Which newspaper did I miss out now? The international picknick on a highway day?

My mind is empty and I can only see my car, seemingly in the speed of light inevitably approaching the point blank spot where the guy is heading right towards to. The over technologized car picked up my shriek and promptly initialized some sort of standard protocol service. "My model is K8R1, how can I make your ride even more comfortable?"

"STOP THE CAR! STOP THE CAR! STOP RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" I can see it in slow motion. – 3

"Our current location doesn't allow any unexpected traffic interruptions to avoid accidents." It's more reflex than anything that my foot is trying to hit the brakes, only discovering empty air of the passenger seat.

"EMERGENCY! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!" I frantically cry out while my eyes are dead locked ahead, my body too stiff to move anything else from the shock. - 2

"Please enter emergency code." – 1

"ARE YOU FUCKING KI…" - 0

Honestly seeing the guy hitting full speed my front window is worse than the actual collision. I don't even have the time to feel glad about my year long habit of wearing seat belts. Most people as soon as they get the automatic model ditch the precaution, because these cars are so absolutely unbelievably safe!

The car stopped, I don't even wonder why. My heart galloping in my chest and I just breathe while starring on the ruined window, strewn with tiny, overgrown fissures. I don't feel any pain from the sudden concussion but know already, that my neck will kill me in a few days.

A completely void, absent state of mind engulfs me. I don't even see the surrounding world anymore, don't register that most of the cars around me have also come to a halt - a collective control mechanism, as every vehicle can communicate with another. My gaze shifts to the red display, error protocols running down too fast for me to read.

Don't know what's going on with myself, but I hear my voice speaking and feel my mouth moving. "K8R1 register new name." – Some part of me is pretty sure I've just interrupted a vital process of notifying police and ambulance safety mechanisms, but I'm far beyond care. "Registering name…." - "Titanic." With that I swiftly exit the car, horribly trembling and bracing myself for the sight.

There are chunks of metal spread a good few feet all over the asphalt, the bright yellow color indicating that most of it must be from my car. There are two dark lines winding in a clear bend, ending under the current location of my vehicle and following to the spot of the impact. My blood is frozen and I desperately search for the red stains and uninvadable death, but there is none to find.

My eyes raising up to the long figure, motionlessly lying the in the middle of the street. The body is strangely relaxed and in one piece, like it was holding a nap. Perplexed my feet move towards it, a few other occupants also exit their cars to observe or even film the situation. Some part of me expected the guy to be completely disfugred, torn legs, skewed arms, masses of gore and a nightmare of sight which will haunt me till the end of my days.

But then I see it, blue blood slowly pooling from beneath the body in a perfect circle. Oh no. Obscurely, this shocks me worse than if the victim would have been a human. It's like in those horror movies where a child gets massacred and no one bats an eye, but god forbid something happens to a dog.

I've reached the body and slowly turn it over so it falls from the side onto his back and even more fluid gushes out from almost everywhere. The other humans are not blind, as soon as they've realized that it's 'just' an android which got run over, they grudgingly put away their phones, some already signaling for me to move the hell out of their way so they can drive. But I don't listen to them, then my mind suddenly started working.

My eyes scanning the model number, again and again. Maybe I've just missed this model in my research? But no, at least at my company I would have stumbled across a commission regarding any latest series in mass production. My eyes follow the serial number #313 248 317 – 51, even the number of digits is unusual and that in itself alarms me to no end. This whole event, the recent news, a model I've never seen or heard before in my life, that can only mean one thing – I'm in some deep trouble.

My brain has now not only reached its full potential, all the stress and adrenaline promptly put it into overdrive. Quickly scanning the catastrophic damage of my new car, I already know that it's fit only for a knacker's yard - my insurance company will bleed me dry on this one. Glancing down on the dead android, I don't even want to imagine what the government will charge.

Quickly, before even the first sirens arrive, I heave the android on my back and my frail body almost gives out under the weight. The people around me having their time of their life, but no one is even thinking about offering help or getting directly involved, if I won't find this whole scene later on youtube I will smack my ass and call me Sally.

Huffing and puffing under the impossible heaviness of the dead metal and yucky wet clothes, I somehow manage to push him into the backseat. Scanning the perimeter, I quickly evaluate the situation, it's only a matter of time before the police finds me responsible. More than a dozen vehicles witnessed the fiasco, even if the plate number is not officially registered under my name, as soon as they get access to the cars company database it will eventually lead them towards me.

I have to hurry home and pack out some dusty tools I would rather not touch. The risk grew enormously in the last few decades, only the high-end geniuses or fools try to hack nowadays. I'm neither of them, but my trembling, panicking consciousness is leaving me no choice.

There are only a few types of people. Confronted with an impossible situation you can clearly put them into categories. Those, who honestly hand one selves in even if there are no witnesses. The scaredy ones, who get the hell out of there and think about the consequences later. The aggros, who only manage to make every situation worse than it was in the first place. And my kind - "Shit, shit, shit, how do I cover this up?"


	3. Chapter 7

Every little child knows, that as soon as an androids core processor shuts down completely, there is no rescuing. There is no simple reboot system, no backup you can restore, no safety mechanism preventing the loss of those critical micro dynamic components - which shape the very essence of a specific model.

Certainly, they can be reactivated afterwards for short periods of time and most of the saved information can still be extracted, but you could say Androids are way too complex to _survive_ this specific point where their essential bio components fail.

There are countless, ungraspable wirings zipped into a form resembling the human brain. Highly delicate Nano-bots invisible for the blank eye, storing sheer unimaginable amount of information and shaping the very personification of their being by not only accessing the androids' memory, but also influencing his decision making.

Some fanatic religions even go as far as to call out this whole cleverly designed construct of Kamskis - a soul. Well, there is definitely not such a big step from an actual living being to a highly complex artificial intelligence, capable not only responding in a non-deterministic way to its surroundings, but even allowing the accumulation of experience, the never-ending process of learning makes every android unique in itself even if their origin seems the same.

My point is, should the processor loose its power for a prolonged period of time, ranging dynamically between the different model types, the sort and heaviness of injury, the fine electronics will lose their connections permanently. It's easier to rebuild a new android, then to try to find the countless errors and bugs occurring due prolonged power loss, not to speak about the corrupted memory and irrecoverable personality traits.

Now, imagine my surprise as I notice it twitch.

The car parked properly in the garage beneath my apartment, not really wishing to draw any attention to the messed-up state of my newly rented vehicle by leaving it outside. Distress filling my thoughts as I already go through the mental list of preparations I have to make to determine the right order of action. In other words, I'm scared shitless to move.

If I manage to hack the database of the car renting company I will be able to change the serial number and the plate registration of the car, so at least the police won't be able to link the incident to me. I still will have to repair this mess tough before giving it back and I have only three days to accomplish all that, better get going.

Just before exiting I glance to the backseat, heavily sighing about the mess all the blue blood leaves on the seats. At least I know perfectly well that it evaporates given some time and there will be soon no traces left visible to the naked eye. Since the androids LED is grey - emitting no light, I haven't even lost a thought about paying him any further attention, not in the near feature at least.

That's exactly when, just as I was about to turn away, his fingers twitched ever so lightly.

Honestly my blood froze at this very moment. No, I wasn't creeped out by the fact that a dead machine might experiencing some aftershock spasms, I wasn't freaked out about some possible mail function and him suddenly launching himself at me, just as in those highly popular horror movies. It was the absolute certainty that he was still, effectively, _alive_. There are three procedures, any software developer who ever visited a proper university knows, which allow you to check the basic response of your standard android.

1 - turn the LED just slightly clockwise and hold your finger against it for approximately ten seconds. With a drumming heart and silent prayers to all android heavens for him **not** to respond, I start with the first. Counting down I mentally steel myself for the worst. Should he actually still be operational, it would not only mean that some part of his brain might still be sending out information about his current location, but god knows what else to CyberLife, at this very moment where I stupidity sit around and stare holes into the wall! They would not only know that I've destroyed they – who even knows _what for_ specialized – model, they would even know I've literally kidnapped him from the crime scene in the pathetic attempt to cover up the whole incident. I would be DEAD! My career RUINED! Who would even want to hire someone with a crime record nowadays!

It blinks - one short red signal, before the LED dies down again.

Oh no no no no no no no! Why me? Why? Fuck!

I don't even bother with the other two checkups, heaving him out of the car and literally dragging him over the floor into the elevator and successfully reaching my apartment without running into anyone. Hysterically throwing open cabinets and lockers in the search for the old wirings from my studying times – I never believed I would need again, but still kept for they usefulness.

Ok, breathe, just breathe, you can do this. Unplugging my newest shiny hardware from the network, it's incredibly fast and comfortable, but anything but safe in regard of illegal activities. Cramming out the old 2020's computer I've received as a gift from a fellow student - those things don't even get produced anymore and that, for good reason. As soon as I find the essential wires and have everything up and running, the green light of the commando screen ready and reassuringly waiting for its instructions, I feel instantly better.

First things first, I can't possibly know how long this android has before his complete system failure, but it can't be all too long. While my hardware skills are horribly lacking, it's not like I could call a colleague over to help me. At least I have to try and stabilize his system myself. Tearing down his jacket, deactivating the synthetic skin around his torso and pushing at the right spots for his inner compartment to open – a fiasco, way worse than I have imagined presents itself.

How in the world is he still operational? Yes, there is the occasional heartbeat, but coming so sparsely that it could only contain a completely suspended, something called 'winter hibernated' system state and I know of no model capable of automatically entering it. The artificial lounges, craftly created for they cooldown mechanism and not like widely believed to appear more humanly, actually stabilize the most energy consuming and heat producing components. Well, those are completely smashed from the impact and the contained thermostatic liquid is all over the place. At the first glance I see at least seven damaged components, four of them vital for system stability, barely hanging on in their functionality, struggling with the lost thirium amount. As I've said, I'm no expert in hardware maintenance, but even a rookie like me can tell he has at maximum only _minutes_ left.

Looking back at my shaking, panicking self, I really wonder why I even didn't consider to take a giant rock from the garden and simply smash his head in, interrupting any connections to the outside from the start. Instead I run into my cubbyhole, stumbling and tripping on misplaced cat toys and trash, tearing open old boxes with some outdated bio components I experimented with in the days where my obsession about androids reached its peak. I know already that they won't fit perfectly, I will be glad if they're even working at all, being stored away for nearly a decade, but it's not like I have all too many options right now.

I don't know all the procedures required to properly remove, or should I rather describe it as – operate - out those countless wires and bio components. I simply tear them out in full force, leaving a mess of more blue liquid spurting into all directions. Just connecting the open wires into the standardized plugins of the old spares as good as I can manage.

I'm not even sure If I've gotten all the countless ports right, or if I accidently created an electrical bypass here and there. It's a bloody mess and my trembling fingers are not helping, unsteadily fumbling, most likely worsening his state and further damaging the fine mechanics in this over complex body. One of the essential components doesn't even fit with anything I have at hand, so I wrap some duct tape around it till it stops bleeding.

Looking at the slumped figure in my chair, clothes ruined, completely covered in thirium, my hands, face and floor all blue, I feel like literally standing in front of a crime scene. "Looks good" I mumble, a pathetic attempt to cheer up.

The moment of truth. I take a thick wire from my computer, connecting it directly to his brain and start softly tapping in the standard connection protocols.

/ User required. Please enter the desired security level. /

Well, let's start out with:

4 - common user.

/ Please enter password. /

Wait what? Since when does a normal endpoint user even need a password for the normal maintenance access? Again, a bad feeling about this particular android creeps around my chest. But I'm not sure how much time I've won with my surgery, as far as I know the connection could die any minute. If I have to guess around for a password, I could as well try for the admin privileges.

Level 2 – administrator.

/ Level accepted. Please enter password. /

I don't even go for the first level, only Kamski himself has this kind of access and I'm not insane enough to dab into the traps and labyrinths he surely prepared. Let's see which password would a normal CyberLife engineering department take?

admin

/ wrong password, 5 more attempts allowed until master password is enforced. /

Well, that would have been too easy anyways. But wait? Five attempts? It's usually three! That can only mean they've tended to enter it wrong on multiple occasions and pushed the number up to reduce the amount of workload in the IT department. It's highly likely they change it regularly, enforcing the most stupid safety protocols in the history - those which tend to invoke careless behavior in form of flying around passwords, inappropriate hints on pads, completely clear texted email reminders or worse.

Heh, this will be fun. Researching the name of the street of Detroit's CyberLife residence, the rooms of the technical department and some first-hand facts commonly available for the public, I'm all set and ready for the game.

Should I not get it right - and I'm perfectly assuming I won't – I will have to start a brute force program I wrote back in the days for fun. There is also the free accessible cloud database, some geeks created and refined over the years, containing all the analyzed results how those passwords are generated in the first place.

My small white rabbit – that's how I endearingly call it, simply utilizes those techniques and calculates the most likely numbers and alpha numeric literals, to guess the 25 digits long master passwords, also accounting the facts I feed it with about the company I want to hack myself into. There are no guarantees though, it could take forever and after an hour I will certainly have to reconsider my options. But first things first.

Let's take the company name, the floor of the IT department, adding a few special characters commonly used in large companies, combining it with the current month and year - highly convenient for annoying iterations.

Cyber!S47#Nov.38 – a password as good as any.

Pressing enter and already thinking about my next attempts, the screen flashes black and I'm in. Silence as I blink a few times.

What the actual fuck? Are they for real? I didn't even need three goddamn attempts! And they call themselves the leading technology company?! I dumbly stare into the screen as miles of namespaces, projects and themes spread out in front of my eyes. No, no, that can't be right. It's a trap! Glaring at the android besides me, still sitting lifelessly in his chair.

Despite being completely convinced that the police force will burst open my door any minute, my curiosity drives me forward. The old fashioned and outdated development and environment analyzing program sorts his contents surprisingly well, but it's clear I won't be able to access his core programming directly like this, only CyberLife itself has the tools and underlying access codes for this. It will take years to reverse engineer the essentials, even longer to completely understand them. But nevertheless, the basic interfaces are easily accessible, allowing me to manipulate, restrict or even extend his programming through - let's say _unintended_ means.

Blocking all out- and ingoing ports to the outside with invalid hash codes and eliminating the worst threat, I've immediately attend to powering up his consciousness. He won't be able to move as long as he's connected with my system and it will allow me to observe the flow of his code and learn all about him. The idle cycle flows seamlessly into millions of simultaneous threads, I pick out the most interesting ones and screen them on different windows.

His name – Connor – vividly present as a disguised and shifting access key to the most of his subfunctions. It's not surprising that he promptly tries to connect with the outside, his system diagnostic fail miserably, given the fact that it's not compatible with this emergency hardware.

I boot up the virtual reality space, pulling on the helmet which promptly absorbs me into his world. You must imagine multidimensional spaces I can freely travel or switch to at will, while having all the access points in my backup view. There are clever attempts to rearrange access rights, to summon data tables containing exigency codes, basically all the procedures I need to manipulate him, he unknowingly presents me. I follow his example, mimic his movements and only halt here and there in absolute awe.

His code is beautiful.

I've seen basic examples, had my fare share of access to multiple androids at work, I know the basic structure, but never, for the life of me, I've seen such refined and _complete_ artwork. It's all there in a structure of light and countless rooms behind closed doors – some made out of glass, others in matt blue, protected by highly complex algorithms dancing across their surface. There is graphical, shaped and filed information moving beneath my feet, everything perfectly ordered and layered out for display. But, in the center of it all – an isolated, colorful garden.

Stepping lightly on the presented paths, the weather, the smell, the feeling of a small breeze directly transmitted to my brain and making me actually _feel_ the whole environment. This is insane! I didn't know CyberLife progressed this far, if anyone knew they're already capable of recreating and simulating the reality to this extend. The riots would go out of control, as skeptical and hostile as humans are towards technology already.

The garden is empty, the androids consciousness too occupied with routine constellations to notice my presence. It's obvious that this room was created as a forum allowing the technicians directly to interact with the AI, good thing I've isolated any communication attempts. I load their avatar just out of curiosity and am greeted by the appearance and voice of Amanda Stern – Knowingly as Kamski's teacher and an eminent professor of my Colbridge University. Interesting, but not very helpful.

It's hard not to get distracted, my heart beating hard in my chest as I feel like Alice in wonderland literally following my white rabbit somewhere I'm not supposed to be. Hand tracing wondrously the texture of the trees, touching the cold stones, the gentle grass and the warm water in the Zen garden. Except for the platform in the middle, there is also some sort of device in the back of one of the paths one could easily miss. It's only slightly illuminated and just sits there, trying hard to blend in with the environment but not quite managing it. I might have brushed it off as one more access token of CyberLife's, but its complete inaccessibility and disconnected state to the rest of the facility strikes me as especially odd, I will have to ask the android directly about it.

Since I don't have all day and am not keen on pushing my luck, I exit the room to concentrate on those still lingering matters at hand. Swiftly scanning his environment, I discover quickly the black hole - that's where the real deal is usually being hidden.

My rabbit is shining vividly with its white fur while hopping through the darkness, even if it gets swallowed by the security mechanisms meant to protect this place, it simply multiplies and tries another way. The only thing I have to do is follow carefully, I certainly can't die in here, but I would rather not find out what will happen, should I directly walk into a trap.

It's obvious that the programmers didn't expect anyone to hack themselves into this system, or it wouldn't be this easy. Well, the CyberLife engineers themselves don't need to, the android doesn't possess the necessary will to do so and no outsider wouldn't even come physically close to attempt to.

Eventually I reach the middle of this horrible place, the black void around me endless, only a single white pedestal presenting itself in blue light. As soon as I touch it, the interface shifts to a human template and asks for access rights, obviously.

Cold sweat running down my back I suddenly discover how dangerous actually this whole snooping around might become. There is no telling what will happen should I exhaust my options, try to run away, or even to disconnect. Especially since the access was easy, I must assume that the exit won't be. Hell, praise my curiosity. Summoning the one and only avatar I've encountered in this system I simply state her name. The shape shifts and mimics Amanda's form and voice, like facing a mirror.

/ Overriding access granted. Please repeat: This is an order. /

At loss for words about what exactly this supposed to mean I simply reply with my own voice. "This is an order." The human template shifts and distorts like it's being forcefully tormented to change its shape. Eventually it stabilizes again and to my growing discomfort I suddenly look at myself.

/ Override successful. /

Before I can blink, I'm thrown out of the room, not quite sure If I did the right thing there, or if that even was supposed to happen. But since I've gained quite an amount of access codes already and familiarized myself with the basic shape of his programming structure, it will be far less _stressful_ to manipulate his parameters from the outside, in the old-fashioned way.

Pulling off my helmet I glance to the android on my left side, still unmoving but apparently conscious by the red blinking light.

Only a few inputs later, I'm finally greeted by warm brown eyes.

"Hi Connor."


	4. Chapter 8

For a second it steals my breath away as we watch each other in silence. There is lively intelligence shining in his eyes, not the dull content expression I usually experience with androids. Although he's far from the perfect physical state, most likely knows nothing about me and has no access to download any information to find out what happened to him, he smiles friendly. "You're the owner of the WLAN – 'Don't even try it'. What is your name?" It's astounding and scary with how much certainty he states this fact, which of course is correct.

I brush off the introduction procedures and rather point to his open belly. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid you will have to repair yourself later, I did what I could for the time being." His attention shifts downward and as soon as he sees the damage, leaves out an inaudible groan. The red LED blinks rapidly and his face contorts - almost as if he's in terrible pain and it confuses me immensely. He's not supposed to feel anything, it must be some elaborate program for social interaction which had gone haywire. For a few moments I'm worried that he won't snap out of it, but his expression softens again and his eyes land back on me.

"My system diagnostics fail." He admits defeated. There are no studies regarding the side effects of how well androids cope with inadequate components, but I imagine the interference with his normal functionality must be quite severe.

"Well that might be because those organs of yours are not really supposed to be in you." I decide to inform him as soon as possible, so he will avoid analysing their state and risk end up stuck in a loop of failing procedures.

"I won't be able to sustain my system till the end of the day if they're not replaced by properly compatible ones." He blankly states. The indifference to his eminent death is expected, but ever since I've taken a glimpse to his inner workings, having witnessed personally how complex and precious his unique design is, been literally inside of him and felt the _radiance_ of his world, I feel myself growing increasingly upset. "Alright, alright, don't pressure me!"

"I'm sorry, but there is completely no reason for any distress. I will merely experience complete system failure." The way he phrases it one could take it for sarcasm, but the levelled tone and the questioning look on his face tell me otherwise. It's completely his fault I won't see an end to my troubles and he just sits there, devil-may-care should he shut down, as if it's not even his problem!

I concentrate on gathering more information for now. "Introduce yourself." Although I perfectly know his name and all the numbers are clearly written in large letters on his uniform, there might still be something else he might say.

"My name is Connor. I'm an RK800 model designed specifically to assist the police in their investigations. I'm a prototype." Revealing only fundamental details.

"A prototype you say, that explains the unusual serial number. 51 – That's two more digits than other androids have." The thing I've noticed first from all things, a good moment as any to ask him about it.

His smile is warm and _distracting_. "Thank you."

"That, that wasn't a compliment, just a statement." He looks dejected for some reason. His social protocols must be highly advanced to prompt him to react in this way for even such small issues, interesting.

"RK stands for rookie then?" I grin proudly about my stupid joke, curious if I can upset him any further.

"No, resource kernelization of course." To my disappointment he seems to have caught on about my intention already. Too bad, there is so much more one could do with his designation, **r** escued **k** itty for example – but I already know he wouldn't appreciate any more joke attempts.

"Can you also tell me why there are two more digits?" I should at least try to be serious when I poke around for his personal information.

"I don't know. I was only informed that I'm the first of my line." He answers while slightly furrowing his brows, like he never even contemplated about this fact himself before.

"The first? What happened to the other fifty?" The grin is all over my face again, I'm sorry, I can't help it! But he looks quizzically at me, not quite understanding the question. His LED erratically picks up speed and he grows apparently more desperate as he can't find the answer.

"It was a joke, relax. Most likely it's just the day when you were build or something." Looking up in his database for general information to confirm my suspicion, I find out that he was indeed released on the 5th of the August 2038.

"You're quite young. So, for what kind of missions did CyberLife already use you?" I start with seemingly unprovocative questions, expecting to ease first into a friendly conversation, before prompting him about the serious stuff.

"I'm not supposed to disclose any information to civilians. I'm sorry."

"What? None what so ever? You make it sound like CyberLife is some sort of criminal organization protecting high security secrets and developing life threatening projects underground in order to gain world domination." His expression stays emotionless and although I half meant it as a joke, there was always a lingering suspicion that it's not all too far away from the truth either.

"Ok, what is your current mission then?" Just wanting to know what in seven hells was so important for him to run across the highway in the middle of the rush hour.

"I've already told you that I'm no position to reveal any data which is not already available for the general population." He frowns offended, like I'm either too stupid to understand him, or too disrespectful about his perfectly accurate configuration. Most likely though, it's just an elaborate protection mechanism, meant to throw off any unaware intrusion attempts.

"What were you doing this morning on the highway?" It's a less direct approach, surely there are ways to circumvent the hardcoded restrictions forbidding him to elaborate on concrete facts about his mission, but it should be very well possible to gain at least some clues to work with.

"I was executing my mission of course." It took some willpower not to slam my hand against the table right then. I've never expected to meet this hardcore level of resistance. It seems like he's specialized for interrogation procedures and keen on keeping me completely in the dark.

"How can your mission be more important than your system stability? You're aware you got yourself almost killed there?" I'm in no way qualified for this game called - asking the right questions in the right order with the right expressions. It is definitely easier to just hack myself further into his program and simply read this information, but in his programs are countless barriers and the time it takes to break them down is really not worth it.

"Yes. My partner tried to stop me, but nothing stops me from accomplishing my mission." He sounds proud, more than just an android doing his job. But what's more interesting, I've finally gained a clue! It would be foolish to ask for a name directly, but that's at least a step forward.

"So, someone in the police is allowed to know about your super-secret mission then?" The way he reacts, inclining his head lightly, taking a breath before wordlessly looking at me – is an answer in itself, but not a very satisfying one. "You're an android! You're not supposed to be annoyed just because I ask you the same question multiple times!"

And then, he's audacious enough to shift his expression back to perfect innocence, voice clear and placid. "I'm not annoyed" For fucks sake, but I am!

"So what is your mission?" I perfectly know that there is no way to brute force this question, he's not a human to grow tired, even the annoyance he displayed clearly before, was just a part of his program. He will answer in the same way no matter how often I try, or how I vary my question.

"You don't have the necessary access rights to acquire this information." See? Exactly what I was expecting. Let's play his little game, maybe there is a loophole somewhere.

"Which access rights do I need?" For a second he looked as he would answer, bringing my hopes up foolishly. But then he just closes his mouth again, inquisitively looking me in the eyes. "If you were authorized, you would know." Right, as if he would simply spill the GuID I need to add into my account and make this whole thing easy.

"This is not an answer Connor!" I feel like getting a headache. My mood jumping all over the place and watching his reaction - it's promptly up through the roof again. "Don't you dare to smile on that!"

"I'm just trying to be friendly." If he would have been able to move, I swear he would have pulled his hands up in pacification.

"ah, for fucks sake, I don't need you to be friendly, I need information! Let's try it otherwise, what **CAN** you tell me about yourself?"

"…" The Android disinterestedly looks away. His gaze shifts lazily around the objects in my room and after a few minutes passed without him answering, I grow certain that he won't. "Are you ignoring me now?"

"No." His LED blinks and its obvious that he's analysing the items in his view. There are some anime figures on the cupboard, a half-finished oil painting in the corner of my room which I haven't touched for years. Countless cables, old consoles and more characteristic stuff for him to study.

"Then why don't you answer." I'm really patient here. Ok, I'm not. But I'm _trying_!

"You've just stated that I don't need to be friendly with you. There is hence no need to explain myself." He's dead serious there and for a horrible moment I realize that's exactly what he was aiming at from the start.

"You're doing this on purpose!" Calm down, getting angry with a machine is not a healthy behaviour.

"What am I doing?" Big round brown eyes, highly raised eyebrows, as if he really wouldn't know.

"You take everything I say literally to avoid answering any questions what so ever!" There is just something about him that makes my voice growl.

"Yes." He blankly states, his gaze again shifting through the room boredly. He must have scanned most of the items by now.

"Don't make both of our lives harder than it is. You know that your life is in my hands now, do you?" Deep breaths, it's not the fault of the android, it's only the user in front of it - who can't ask the right questions.

"I'm not alive."

Throwing the chair down I jump up from my seat, two hard steps and I'm already upon him. This is supposed to be just a normal routine check-up and me gathering some basic knowledge, **not** an interrogation, but damn it very well feels like one!

"I don't need your quibbles! You're not alive you say?" I put my hands around his throat, just for the gesture, not actually squeezing. "Those bio components are struggling as hell to keep you very in fact - _alive_. Should I put just a tad of pressure" oh god help me, but I do. "Do you feel them struggling? Can you tell how much effort it takes to keep you up and running?"

His eyes are now all on me, he's look all levelled and composed, but somewhere, there is also confusion. "Yes." He simply states and I let go immediately. What am I doing? "Then you should appreciate it more that you're still here and breathing." Perfectly knowing he won't get the point anyway. I really don't want to jeopardize his state any more, he's already at the brink of destruction and it's exactly what pisses me off. I'm still the only one here who cares if he even makes it.

"I'm sorry. Please be _friendly_ again." I squeeze out defeatedly. Connor 1, Hacker 0.

He somehow perfectly manages to subtly play with my emotions. If I want to get anywhere I should either go back to hacking or not getting worked up this badly. Some part of me knows that it's his security protocol provoking me, I'm very well aware that androids are capable of destroying themselves should someone try to breach their security and since he can't move his options are limited.

"Of course." It's strange enough, but as soon as his eyes are back on me and I've gained again this warm smile, no longer grazing the fine line where I could have lost his disposition and with it, a huge amount of access to common functionality, it feels like I can breathe evenly again. Honestly, fishing for information from an android who is clearly designed in all ways to resist, is hopeless.

Turning away from the captivating eyes, I focus back on my computer. Hurriedly typing some code - I can push as a batch into his core program. I've noticed there is an empty spot above the list of his main priorities, most likely reserved for an emergency, so the developers don't have to reconfigure his whole system, should they've overlooked something vital in his behaviour.

"What are you doing?" His voice is wary, although only now having noticed the wire connecting his system to my equipment.

"I can't stand your suicidal attitude, I will fix it before you do something stupid." This is the main reason no owner ever attempts to explore those secrets hidden in them, all guarantees are lost as soon as you open them up.

"You're not supposed to have access to my program. I'm only allowed to be maintained by trained CyberLife personnel." It's cute how staggered he sounds, I can tell that even in this state, he attempts to counter my intrusion. His body twitches again in his seat, almost as if he's fighting against those invisible restraints forbidding him to move the main parts of his body.

"Well honey bunny, you can guess three times who has access anyway." I smile, watching his struggling algorithms run against the walls I've already established. I wouldn't stand a chance wouldn't his hardware be as damaged as it is. There is no way for a human to fight directly against his implemented and powered up anti-virus protocols, they would isolate my access before I even had the time to blink.

Adding argument; protocol_#10001(priority: 0);

His demeanour freezes and his eyes blink rapidly as the small piece of code is absorbed by the core programming. His next statement is polite and composed, but you can clearly hear the underlying urgency. "Please order my bio components from an express shop immediately, or at least send me back to CyberLife so I can be properly repaired."

"What was that?" I smile wider, as I state the rhetorical question, already knowing that it worked as intended. But he answers dutifully. "I would consider it highly regrettable…" He takes a pause to form his next statement, although still not quite sure if it's right to say such a thing. "… should I, shut down before I can complete my mission."

It's fascinating how my direct input can change his whole behaviour pattern. Although he replies as I've expected, there is the clear struggle against the new, unsigned instructions. It doesn't make any sense that CyberLife didn't bother to include self-preservation to his top priorities, his construction must have cost a small fortune.

Although I know better than to play around at this very moment, there is just so much I can do by abusing this method. Too bad - I don't come very far. As soon as I'm about to put the next block of self-written code into his system, I'm greeted by an error message. "Oh no."

"Have you broken something vital?" His head is turned towards me, attentively scanning my reactions. He's perfectly aware how far I've gotten, I wonder if he can even feel me rummaging through his software. "No." I meekly answer hiding my face in the palms of my hands.

"The level in your tone discloses a high uncertainty." He insists. Ok, I wouldn't be excited to hear this in his place as well, should a doctor be knee deep in my guts and then suddenly proclaim 'oh noes!'. At least the first protocol I've inserted is still working perfectly.

"I can't add any more priorities on top of your main mission!" It was foolish to assume that would be able to extend the list indefinitely.

"That is correct." He relaxes visibly, an innocent smile plastered on his face. I can't be sure, but is this his way to hide complacency?

"NOOooo! What have I done!? If I had known, I would have added something! Something…" When I think about it, I should have also added countless parameters making him more obedient!

"What could possibly be more important than my safety?" Again, a cute and innocent question, which seems totally out of place.

"Oh for fucks sake! You should have heard yourself five minutes ago." His mood stabilizes, while mine drops to the bottom as I consider my options.

"I perfectly remember. The completion of my mission had the utmost importance, and I never fail my missions." Is he being ironic with me right now? What the hell was he constructed for, I've never encountered social protocols extending and simulating humour in such annoying ways.

"Except when you get run over by my car." I counter grumpily, while scanning the descriptions of his core functionalities to get a better feeling of what he's capable off.

"Yes, but this is of no relevance." Even more access codes. For every bit of information I gain, list of questions and closed-off realms heap up. "What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose this information. If you have any further questions please contact CyberLife directly."

"Argh hell!" Annoying! Stupid! Restrictions! On EVERY corner!

At least I can change some of those rather easily. I take myself the time to burn down the layers between the user management database and myself, avoiding quite many patrolling systems meant to locate and isolate intruders and camouflaging my steps, by properly closing all the virtual doors behind me. Till I finally reach the destined interface where I can force my code input.

{Overwriting user settings;} foreach(unconnected) delete; current = complete_access_privileges;

/ warning: access privileges are linked to associated responsibilities /

I confirm without any hesitance, brushing away any lingering uncertainty gnawing on me, where I just hope not to break anything accidently. There is always the possibility that I will lock myself out permanently should I delete something essential. But I also perfectly well know, that I have at least try and erase any old access CyberLife might use against me.

"Thank you for updating my settings. I will consider you from now an as an important factor in my investigation." His demeanour changes promptly, body relaxing against the chair, as if all the urgency and all his resistance simply soaked away.

"Wait? Which investigation?" I expect him to somehow circumvent my intrusion and evade the question, but to my surprise he answers now eagerly.

"I'm hunting down deviants and provide CyberLife with all information regarding the cause of their malfunctioning." It's baffling how willingly he suddenly exposed the well protected information.

"You want to tell me those rumours about androids going nuts are actually true!?" Although I don't believe he would bluntly lie, I was convinced too certainly for far too long, that all those reports were completely made up popularity trolls - not even considering it might have been my own wishful thinking.

"Of course. CyberLife considers its highest priority to eliminate any possible threat to humanity."

Fuck. This can only mean that one of the most influential companies in our country is out there hunting down crazy robots and doing their best to hide any information from leaking to the masses. It's THEM who're effectively squashing any reports as groundless rumours and here I am sitting knee deep in all the evidence needed - to expose them.

Pacing nervously around my room, his eyes follow silently my frantic movements, like those of a haunted portrait - hanging in a mansion of some film. I take a look out of my window, almost expecting a white van being parked on the other side of the street, but nothing suspicious hits me.

I walk a perfect circle around his chair, while we observe each other sceptically like two tigers considering their options before battle. I haven't noticed so far, too occupied by the onrushing problems, but he's quite handsome, his expression innocently cute – not at all representing, or maybe even deliberately hiding the stored intelligence behind. "I want you, I want to keep you!" I state promptly and I've wasted too much time already. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't respond.

Cramming out my cell phone, a familiar face on the short list of my contacts lights up. "Matthew, hi! Listen I don't have much time to explain. Please do me a favour!"

As expected I can hear his delight on the other end of the line. He's the only person I know, who is resourceful and discrete enough to help. "Yes, yes I know. But it can't wait till tomorrow. In fact, it can't even wait another few hours."

I know his services have their price, it won't kill him to help out a fellow colleague, but I perfectly remember the way he used to look at me. "Listen, I will send you a list of bio components I need immediately. I know you can get some and I promise I will compensate you to your hearts content." He's a sharp fellow, a simple yes darling – is pretty hard to elicit.

"No, I'm not in trouble." Perfectly hearing my voice hitching up on the blunt lie.

"Please, I will do anything!" Fuck. I know I shouldn't have said that, the guy has some dubious side jobs, including some night clubs, exactly the reason why he got fired from our company and I am pretty sure he will hold me up to that offer. But since any official order will take a while to deliver, not to speak about the attention such costly purchase might attract from the government - they're most likely searching already for their missed property - I'm left with only a few options.

"You seem troubled." Connor was polite enough to wait for my conversation to be finished, before inquiring me about my plans. "At least I will get you up and working properly again" I smile weakly, not even quite sure yet about this fact.

While waiting for his equipment to arrive I can very well use the time and reconfigure some of his settings. Although I won't be able to fix his rotten attitude, at least I can construct some rules insuring his loyalty and discreetness.

"There is no need for you to further tamper with my code, I'm already completely at your disposal." Oh, the unmistakable urgency in his tone tells me exactly otherwise. I proceed typing, increasing my speed.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" He insists as I pay him no mind. I need more time to locate all the stored resources which impregnate CyberLifes trademark on him.

As his attempts to sow doubts don't archive the desired effect, he starts to visibly struggle against the restriction not to move. His fingers curl around the armrests, even the right side of his mouth bends slightly upwards in effort, but it is to no avail yet.

I shouldn't be nervous about him suddenly breaking free, at most - all of his bio components will fall apart should he actually succeed and it will result in his immediate destruction, rather than any danger of my own. "You're not coping well with my hacking. I'm sorry but hang in there for a bit." I should at least try and distract him with a conversation by occupying his processors.

"Don't worry, adapting to unpredictable situations is one of my key functions." He winks flirtatiously at me, while his body remains tuned like a wire.

"Such as this one?" A bead of sweat forming on my temple.

"Yes." It is almost as if he knows for sure, that he will succeed eventually.

"So what do you make of it?" I probe, never ceasing in my attempts to hack his code.

"I would advise you to return me to CyberLife immediately. The further you breach my security, the higher will be the compensation fee." His tone is still friendly, but the warning in his words is unmistakable. I really can't have that happening, I've gone too far already.

"Will you report to them about me given the chance?" A pause. "No."

There was a freak'n _definite_ pause! His face doesn't show it in any way that he might be lying. I don't believe androids even _can_ , but my guts are screaming at me that he just did.

I don't take any chances and promptly write countless parameters, I can possibly come up with in this short time, forbidding him to ever mention anything about my person, should he ever come to contact with CyberLife in the future. On my outer left screen, I see the pulse of his thirium pump accelerating.

He grinds his teeth and there are beads of sweat forming on his temple. To every single input I force into his system, his body reacts although it's being _tortured_. "If you proceed into this direction, I can't guarantee that I will continue to function properly." This makes me actually pause. Whatever I'm trying to accomplish, damaging him is definitely not included.

Those precious seconds of hesitance are my doom. I notice it perfectly on time to avoid the worst, but too late to gain everything I strived for. "Connor!" Roaring in his direction, he answers me with a smug self-assured smile, like he's just accomplished a sub mission. "YOU! YOU!" He just launched an antivirus procedure which cut me out from the most suitable position. I can't really blame him, I wouldn't be all to delighted if someone tried to hack into my brain to change _my_ behaviour.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" I won't entertain his masked provocation this time. "Forget it." And resume another route, which will take even longer to complete and has a higher risk of actually breaking some of his subfunctions.

"Is CyberLife aware that I've stolen you and that you're still alive?" That's something I want to know desperately.

"No." The answer comes promptly and evenly. Phew, at least one good thing happening to me for today. But just as I was about to relax, I halt again in uncertainty, needing a clarification once again. "How can you be so sure?"

"CyberLife isn't particularly interested in your person. And even should I end up destroyed, they would deploy another android to replace me." His answer seems plausible, but the way he's been acting, I can't be too sure if he's not only saying what I want to hear.

"You're not as unique then." I wonder for a moment what exactly always prompts me to diss him. Is it the adorable disconcerted reaction? The cute, lost look in his face as his eyes tray slightly downwards? My heart certainly flutters - just a small ping of regret, not enough to convince me from refraining to do so in future.

"What exactly can you do?" As an apology, I give him an opportunity to show off. Hopefully this time he will at least answer.

Indeed, his face lights up immediately. "My processors are capable of real time evidence evaluation, I have all the necessary equipment to reconstruct events only by the given location of the current objects around me. Should you reenable my communication I would even have access to the police database to scan faces for information." Again, as he speaks about his job there is unmistakable eminence of joy. Given the necessary access rights, he's actually a pretty pleasant fellow.

"You're quite a refined police officer then?" There are tons of android models out there in the field. But I've never heard of them doing any work which requires advanced capabilities, besides of distributing tickets for wrong parking.

"No. Although I was specifically designed to analyse crime scenes, my ultimate goal is in locating and comprehending deviants. I even posses the newest modules - allowing me to interrogate and negotiate with suspects." He's like a flustered puppy, dejected that no one recognizes the nobleness of his duty.

"Does android-detective sweet you better?" It definitely sounds cute.

He smiles at first, but then his face falls into a frown although he might have made a mistake. "The humans I've encountered so far, weren't pleased with this assessment."

I bet it's one of those issues about androids stealing human jobs. But he's barely been made, don't tell me he stumbled already in those discrimination issues? I leave my chair to kneel right in front of him and look in his eyes. Although I can't stop myself from ragging him on every occasion, I already perfectly _know_ how amazing he is.

"That only means that you're pretty good at your job." I state flatly, grinding my teeth. I don't even actually own him, but if someone dared to belittle him, it strangely enough already feels personal.

In exactly this moment a shrill disturbing tone rings loudly through my apartment and we both jump startled.

Matthew wears a dark red blouse, a seductive smile is tugging on his lips as he leans against my door frame. His appearance all cool and composed, accentuated by the opaque glasses against the evening sun.

"Hey babe, I've got your order. I hope you have my reward." He already tries to push himself through the door, already anticipating to receive some good time right away. I firmly hold it against him.

"Not now Matthew. You've heard me, it's an emergency and I'm in a rush. I will have the money ready next week." His relaxed demeanour changes promptly and he clicks his tongue in displeasure. "What did our cute little kitty get herself into?" He grins, showing a row of perfectly white teeth, most likely artificially made to glisten as brightly.

I try to grab the box, squeezed at his right side, but he swiftly evades and using the momentum, sticks his head through the door, searching curiously for clues. It's my luck that the corridor doesn't give away the view to the room where the android is waiting. "I will tell you if you say where you've got those components." I counter against his intrusion and it works like a charm.

"Ah, ah, ah, darling, you know it doesn't work that way." He quickly snatches a strand of my hair and sniffs it while watching my face. Enduring his repulsive behaviour, my eyes firmly fixed on the box - the only chance I have to rescue this stupid android.

"Then let's keep it like that. You have your own secrets, I have mine Matthew." His smirk falls once again as his advances don't result in the desirable effect. "Oh come on, it's hardly fair. Everyone knows I have a hand and my fair share of connections in the Eden club. With your skills I'm sure you can find out where those trinkets were registered. But you however, still remain all secretive and mysterious." With every spoken word he leans closer and closer until I can feel his breath on my face. "I might take it as though you don't consider us friends. You don't want to hurt my feelings now, don't you baby?" He squeezes my shoulder until I'm sure it will breeze.

Clearing my throat, I coldly look back in his all too close face, almost bored by his threatening behaviour. "I've promised to compensate you Matthew, it's _your_ turn to trust your _friend_ now, isn't it?" He's amused by my remoteness, but finally ceases the revolting contact.

"I tell you what, just because I don't want you to do something stupid with those." He inclines his head towards the box shortly. "Some shit'n android just gone bonkers and killed one of our customers. I've used the commotion to disassemble a tom for ya. You're a lucky chick it happened right after your call, or I might have had to resolve to _worse_ measures." The way he says it, with unconcerned amusement in his voice, one could really believe his intentions, but I know perfectly that this is just his way of foreplay. He hasn't forgotten my promise – _anything_ – and it's dreading me already; how in the world should I get out of this mess later.

"What? An android **killed** a human? Are you sure?" Maybe I didn't hear him right there. It surely sounds to me, like the whole world is about to go down and I only get a sneak peek on bits and pieces of clues pointing right towards it. Like in those zombie movies where you notice some strange behaviours here and there, but are still too occupied with your routine life to pay proper attention, before the whole chaos breaks out.

"Babe, I've just said that I've destroyed a perfectly new and the most amazing model they had in their company for ya, just because you mewled so sexy into my phone and here you go and change the topic." Certainly, he doesn't care about witnessing a murder, his eyes trailing lasciviously up and down my body.

"I will call you next week Matthew!" I don't have the patience for this. Firmly grabbing the box and pulling it full force towards me. He roars out a laughter and let go. Not expecting the sudden shift of evaporated resistance, I fly with the box against the wall behind me, throwing the door shut with my leg in the process. I still hear him laugh dangerously on the other side. "I know where you live girl. You won't get out of this easily." Great, as though I don't have enough problems already.

"You're shaking." He says, his voice mild and even friendlier than usual. I haven't even noticed it, shouldn't he have pointed it out. Sighing I place the box in front of his feet and carefully open it, praying to all android heavens that everything on the list is actually there. I had my fare share of human contact for the day.

Looking up at his beautiful face, concern is clearly written in his features as he searches my face. He must have heard the conversation, but still, why the sudden change in his attitude? "Connor, I'm sorry but you've got to stay awake and guide me how to properly repair you. I can't do this by myself, but you know how, do you?"

He scans all the shiny new components, loosely thrown into the box, not wrapped up properly as they're supposed to be handled and frowns. "Let me google this for you." He winks again and I burst out in a laugh. "Cute, but I won't fall for this Connor, you will reconnect with CyberLife given the chance, won't ya?" His smile is smug and just the way I'm used to and for the life of me, somehow it makes me more comfortable than the sudden niceness from before.

Since we both don't have much choice in this matter and his highest priority is now indeed his own safety, he carefully starts to explain what I have to do in order to fix him.

"You should wear gloves." He frowns as I touch the highly sensitive connectors directly with my hands.

"Are you disgusted?" Skeptically pointing out to the mess inside of his torso. "I can hardly make it worse than it already is." Somehow, he always manages to hurt my feelings, it's incredible!

"No, for your own safety. The stored energy levels inside those bio components are highly dangerous and if you do something wrong without the proper protection, you might experience an electrical discharge." He's all pragmatical and tries his best to mildly convince me without offending me further, it's almost like he's trying really hard here.

But to his surprise I burst out in laughter, almost rolling on the floor giggling hysterically. "Protection? You want me to use a rubber?" Being serious is not my forte. Watching his confused expression, his lips already forming the neutral – yes, completely missing my dirty inuendo, I almost die by not getting enough air, chuckling in laughter.

"I, … I haven't meant it that way." He suddenly stutters, his face flushing a staggered red. "I'm sorry if I've caused a misunderstanding." Oh? Don't tell me he figured it out? Our android is not so immune to stupid jokes after all! "Maybe you heard me wrong, I've said _electrical_ discharge, not -" "Please, stop, you're killing me Connor!" I have the hardest time ever to catch back my breath. His reactions are simply priceless, I didn't know he could even get flustered, there is so much to learn about him.

Still chuckling here and then, I get back into business, fetching the next component and completely ignoring his suggestion. My hands tend to tremble, especially if I get nervous and I would rather get electrified than risk them slipping out and break.

"Not this port, use the red with the blue wire." He warns me calmly, having almost endless patience with my clumsy attempts. "Why blue to red? Why not red to red? It doesn't make any sense!" I protest, but do as I'm told.

"I could explain, but it would take too much time. I have only approximately twenty seconds left for you to insert the #1503s." It's stressful as hell, but I manage somehow. Going from the most critical parts of his body to the least, wiping the spilled thirium and renewing it with a freshly opened pack. I strike softly around his thirium pump to clean up the mess the last one has left behind and then, I notice it.

Oh? Did I see it right? I do the same thing again and there is a definite response when he closes his eyes and huffs out a small audible breath. "Do you like it when I do that?" I try not to giggle, this is absolutely not the time to play around! "Androids don't feel emotions, we can only emulate them." He assures me, looking although anything like it.

"Hmm, is that so? Are you certain?" Again, his eyes flutter as I feather so slightly over the freshly reconnected thirium pump. Fuck, I really shouldn't be enjoying this as much, but I do.

He tries hard to suppress it, but a moan escapes his breath. It's languid and sensual and nothing I've ever expected by repairing an android while he's awake. A normal reaction would range from indifference till maximum maybe simulated expressions of pain, but here I am reminded vividly that he's not human.

It's awkward and tense, I perfectly understand now why the engineers shut down any damaged android to undergo extended repair procedures, even if it means a complete memory wipe. It flusters me to no end as I look into his glazed eyes, his laboured breath, the tension in his body as I reconnect the countless wires with the desired components.

They're warm and soft, feel anything but mechanical against my palms and I have to grip them firmly for not letting them accidently slip from my trembling hands. As soon as they're connected with Connors power source, they bristle alive and start a steady beating pulse, which I dumbly observe for a few lost minutes. "Are you, … are you alright?" I ask him as a few moments pass where he doesn't give me any further instructions. The way he just whispers my name then, hoarsely and pleading, just almost does it for me! I feel his voice in all the wrong places and my eyes dart anywhere from the half empty box to his open torso, just not to land on his face again.

"You seem flustered, your distress level is far above average parameters." He states and I hear the irony in his voice. Is he really the one making fun of me here?

"You just wait till I'm finished with you!" I warn him playfully, not really meaning the threat.


	5. Chapter 6

"Amanda" The familiar figure of his handler greets him, a scowl features on her face as he approaches the center platform.

"I have been waiting for you Connor, where have you been?" She stands completely still and waits patiently for him to reach her. Usually she would be busying herself with cutting and rearranging the roses in the garden, not sparing him any unnecessary attention.

"Unfortunately, I was almost destroyed as I chased two suspects across the highway." It's inconvenient for him to admit defeat. Nevertheless, he does it clearly and dutifully, just like he's supposed to.

"So tell me, how did you manage to recover." She just stares at him, emotionlessly, expectantly. Not moving her eyes from him for even a second. He assumes she's already determining his future. The newly changed settings interfere with his usually preferred approach of complete indifference about his eminent destruction. He defines it as nervousness.

"A civilian is currently holding me in their home and tries to repair me. You will receive their address shortly." He knows it perfectly well that she told him not to betray her identity. There are arguments – yellow pathetic barriers – she introduced directly into his program preventing him from directly disclosing her name. But there are yet countless workarounds he can use. She doesn't stand a chance and he's determined.

"Anything else?" Amanda seems growingly mispleased, impatient even. It's strikes him as odd, but he doesn't hesitate. CyberLife must be informed as soon as possible to minimize the damage.

"Yes. She gained access to my program through illegitimate means. I'm afraid that not only my system integrity might be corrupted, but also vital confidential information is already disclosed." Calmly waiting for her reaction, expecting for her to scold him lightly about his missteps, but maybe at least showing signs of approvement that he managed to inform her dutifully even in this situation. But to his irritation her face contorts, displaying clear features of pure, blazing anger.

Connors eyes widen. Something is not right. He runs diagnostics, recalibrating his memories. Maybe he missed something, maybe the damage is far worse than he anticipated.

"You're so gonna pay for that." Huh? Before he gets the chance to reply the white clothed figure blurs into pixels. A disruption? Concerned he scans the temporary results of his analyzing program. Maybe the human actually managed to break his core programming. This very room is like a mirror to the state of his software stability. But it doesn't take long, the projected interface restabilizes again, the fallen pieces reforming and rebuilding the body in front of him. But instead of his supervisor's, a deadly smile greets him.

"Got ya Connor." His eyes literally as wide as saucers, he takes a shocked step back. I don't let him, taking right the step forward he dared. I'm boiling with rage to say mildly. It's not so much about his betrayal - after I've asked him outright if he's going to report me given the chance and him lying to me. It's more about my own incompetence, clearly being spit right into my face.

"Calm down, I can explain." Backing away slowly he holds his hands up in a defensive reassuring gesture. "I meant no harm, it's in my basic protocol to document and report everything to CyberLife." This is definitely not the kind of explanation I might have accepted. I know perfectly well, that it's my own fault for not finding all the loopholes, it's not the choice of this innocent machine – doing nothing but following orders. I'm perfectly aware that I'm mad at myself, but his pathetic distressed smile just asks for it!

This body is only a projected Image, nothing but an interface for my mind and now I will freely use this to my advantage. "Please put that down." His LED blinks rapidly yellow, as he still tries to put some distance between us. "Oh I will." I will definitely put this giant vase, made out of nothing less but stone - down. Right down onto his face!

We both didn't realize how close we've got to the edge of the platform. I launch the throw, miscalculate the weight and the trajectory and end up slipping. Connor skillfully dodges the impossibly fast and heavy object but doesn't get the chance to do the same for me. I crash full force into him and we both go down and with down, I mean literally down under water.

It's a virtual reality room, where I have all the rights to freely adjust my strength, my appearance and be completely capable to beat this pathetic android into oblivion without caring for such things as air - but the simulation is still perfect, I feel every single thing.

Furiously launching kicks and brutal hits with my superior power and agility, I'm amazed about his dodging skills. We stumble in the knee-deep water, getting periodically entangled by strange water plants and crushing either into each other or back into this wet mess. I roar and swear as he neatly blocks my strikes, never hitting me back or attacking me. "You know you can't hide this situation forever. It will come out eventually." He uses every moment where I take my breath to talk. "I will do my best and convince them that it wasn't your fault." Is he for real? I've just heard him first hand, when he served me to them on a silver plate and that definelty not in my best light!

I'm too wet and too miserable to fight anymore, so I give his conversation a shot. "Is that's the best what you've got? How did you manage to succeed in your negotiations is beyond me." I've dabbed into a few of his core functions, I have a really good hunch what he's capable of and now I definitely know better than to trust him.

"Alright, alright. I know I've failed your test. I must admit, it was very clever." Everything he says is by the book the good cop approach. First reasonable, then sympathetic, everything carefully researched, calculated and delivered.

"I can't trust you anymore Connor." That's the moment I define my feelings not as anger, but as disappointment. It was madness, this whole fucking day. Years of work and experience poured into hours of tedious work just to rescue, to recalibrate this guy and in the end …

He sees it as clearly as I do, as I summon the button. Distinct red script in a fat frame manifesting itself right in front of me.

/ Reset memories. /

I hate it. The pure fact that he leaves me no choice but to do this. I just have to touch it and it will all be erased. It's not like this will affect his personality or his abilities, but something in me just knows, that this equals to killing _him_.

His mouth opens in a silent plea as he stretches out his hand, but doesn't dare to make even a single step forward. We both know perfectly well that there isn't a thing he could do or say to stop me.

I look into his face. "It's you who pushed me. It's you alone who's responsible for this outcome!" Of course, I could go back into his programming, trace those endless lines of code, search for loopholes and plug them, think of even more scenarios to cover with custom restrictions. But we both know, it would take way too much time for a single person to ever be finished.

I'm at the brink of tears and I don't even know why. I just have to delete his memories and he will be all mine, way easier to manipulate, way easier to recalibrate and customize to all my needs. As far as I've discovered CyberLife considers him most likely dead and won't even know him missing **yet**.

But looking into his eyes, standing right there in font of me, appeal and regret clearly written in them – although I'm mostly sure that those are cleverly schemed and perfectly designed to manipulate me still – my hand starts to tremble above it.

He's handsome. Especially with his hair and clothes wet like that. Although I barely know him, I can tell how cunning and awkwardly funny he is in his mechanical direct responses. His whole being, right there in my hands and I **don't want** to do it, despite the fact that I never choose dumb things. He knows what is coming, he must already have calculated the outcome and still he says it. "I will report you given the chance. You're right to erase my memories." Gently, reassuring as though I'm the one in need of comfort. I laugh as some actual tears fight they way out of my eyes. Rubbing my face in hysterical amusement.

Reverse psychology, really? One last accusational glance, a bitter smile. "I really should." Then I just disappear and the button erases itself from the virtual space right afterwards.

No one sees as he falls to his knees, hand clutched at his shirt, right where his thirium pump is located.

/ System instability increases. /


	6. Chapter 9

The wetness creeps into the back of my collar and I shake violently on the feeling. Each raindrop sparsely landing on the concrete around me, for now it's mostly dampness before the heavy rain. The night is quite young, but the darkness settles fast in winter, the temperature drops in surprising speed. I shiver as the drop paves its way further down my back, tugging stronger on my collar so it doesn't happen again. I glance to his long figure, relentlessly leading the way to the god forsaken place he absolutely has to visit right now. Its part of his core programming I have no access to, so as soon as Matthew spilled the beans about a crime involving androids, there was no stopping him as soon as he got completely repaired.

"Does it have to be tonight?" I tremble in my thin coat, uncomfortably hugging myself. "We lost enough time already." He replies without even as much as a glance back. It was my idea to exit the cab a few blocks away, not to attract any unnecessary suspicion. Who would have thought that the mild weather which persisted till the beginning of November could turn so drastically?

"I should have left you on the highway." I complain with clattering teeth. "You've said that three times on our way. It's still not too late to erase my memories." He taunts me, as if he wouldn't care.

There are countless places I would rather be than in front of a red light district, but I have to admit that I'm _scared_ to let him go by himself. There is not only the doubt whether I really managed to stabilize his loyalty in this short bit of time, there is also my own personal desperation, leeching at the very core of my heart that he wouldn't come back should my eyes ever lose sight of him. It's my own fault I introduced the requirement to be by his side at all times, now, if that's not a new level of clingy? But as soon as he turns around on my persisted silence, just checking if I'm still there, still following him, I feel instantly better.

The blue red lights dance on the countless puddles, getting reflected on the glass walls, stretch far around the block and alarm any unaware passerby that something must have happened. The police is still here, although a few hours have passed since Matthew spilled the info about the murder. It's like they're waiting for something.

I grab his arm, as he was about to cross the street with the clear purpose to approach the front door. His stoic posture halts for a moment as he looks back. I expect him to be annoyed that I dared to interfere, but his expression is emotionless, only slightly inclining his head to the left, just wondering about my intention. It throws me off how placid he behaves, after his betrayal I hadn't that much time to correct the rest of his programming, but I shake off the dubious feeling and just state my doubts.

"Do you have a plan? The police is everywhere." It's not like they will let us pass right into the middle of the crime scene just because Connor claims to belong to the investigation team. "You're right, we should search for a back entrance." He unceremoniously grabs my hand and leads me towards the building.

There are a few singled out police officers looking around the building for clues, making photos, or noting whatever might appear suspicious. He dodges behind cars and street signs, presses forward right on the moment when they either turn around by themselves, or when he forces them to look in another direction by throwing a random object, conveniently lying to our feet, like an empty beer can. The shortly generated noise is not really suspicious enough for them to halt in their work to go looking, but the humans are trimmed to react to unexpected sounds, so even a small opportunity of a few fleeting seconds is enough for him to haste past them, pulling me all along with him, as if he would have done this his whole life.

We reach a latticed fence, firmly bolted together and way too high to jump over. A sign – DANGER Unauthorized personnel. KEEP OUT – clearly written on top. The only real danger is most likely to stumble and fall face first into the countless spare parts of those pricy androids hidden inside, it's not likely the fence is charged up or something. I probe it tentatively with my finger just in case and notice his look, curiously wondering what I'm up to. "Not electrified" I grin proudly, even more as the furled eyebrows shoot up high in unbelief. He just shakes his head, without reprimanding me that this is NOT how you supposed to test it and proceeds to look around for god knows what instead.

"I can't find any bolt cutters or anything else we could use to make a hole." He states as soon as he comes back, expectantly looking first at me then on top of the fence. I can clearly tell what he implies, but don't like the sound of it, not at all! Gulping I only manage. "Oh no, we will have to go back home, right?" My smile is miserable and not very hopeful. "Far from it, don't worry I will help you, it's not as hard as it looks." His smile is friendly and completely innocent but I dare him! I KNOW HE SECRETLY ENJOYS TORTURING ME!

With only a few short steps his up and on top of the huge thing like it would be nothing and stretches out a hand back towards my own meekly trembling self. I gulp, once more weighing my options, I could simply wait here, he will have to come back here eventually, right? My hands shuddering worse than just from the simple cold as I dare to crawl them into the lashes above, I will have to take at least three steps by myself before I can even reach his hand. My shoes are too broad to fit properly into the holes and the rain doesn't make the whole situation any better. After the second step I end up slipping, letting out a distressed screech and almost ending up falling on my ass - my fingers clawing themselves into the fence were my only salvation.

"Connor, Connor! I don't think I can do this!" I whine and it is just as pathetically as it sounds. He will leave me behind! He surely will proceed without me if I can't get my shit together, RIGHT NOW! The horrible truth repeating itself in my head as I close my eyes and try to steady my trembling. What I do NOT expect, is him reaching for my arm, while balancing his body upside down of the fence, holding his whole weight on top only by anchoring his shoes over the edge. "No! You will break your neck!" I gasp on the act as he heaves me upwards despite my protests. I clench myself into his figure like a very wet cat, in a desperate rescue mission from a too tall tree, she was not supposed to explore.

He handles me like I would weight nothing, ignores my frantic shifting and flailing hands with precise adjustments, while I'm too busy not to die from a heart stroke. "This is too much! I'm just a geek belonging into the basement, I'm not supposed to survive in this environment." And there are actual tears spilling on my cheeks and mingling with the rain, as he declaws my fingers from his clothes and just jumps down to the other side of the fence, leaving me again all alone up there.

"Jump, I will catch you." He stoically proclaims while stretching out his arms. His smile is bend upwards in clear amusement and in this very moment I am sure he is imagining me landing on my face instead. "Stop grinning!" I roar and just launch myself at him, not quite calculating my current position and end up halfway hanging in the fall, my long coat stuck on a peak, feet and arms dangling in suspense. Horrified I look back as I feel it promptly tearing. "No! It will rip off!" But Connor can only reach my feet from down there. "Shit!" He proclaims, shifting closer towards me, but unable to help me out at this point. Just as he was about to climb back up, the darn fabric comes off and I screech tumbling right into him, tearing us both down from the fence and bury him under myself on the concrete with a huffed out – "Uff" And here I was thinking androids don't feel pain.

His LED blinks rapidly yellow as we stare at each other, faces only a few centimeters apart. "Thanks for the rescue. Let's do it again sometime." I grin wildly on his defeated look. "It will definitely be easier if you lose some weight." He counters and just as I was about to hit him, we hear a cough above us.

There are two female androids, wearing nothing but underwear looming above our entangled mass and looking first downward and then at each other in disbelief, shrugging they shoulders. We bob up rashly, I try to knock off the mud, but only end up smearing it further across my coat, while he corrects his tie, a gesture almost making him appear flustered.

"Hello, my name is Connor, I was send by CyberLife to investigate deviants. Do you know anything about the murder?" The WR400 models stiffen up promptly and take a few shocked steps back, their demeanor shifting from mild curiosity to clear hostility.

And I laugh out loud in distress, how my detective android hit the whole issue effectively like a train would hit a barn, shattering it into thousand little pieces. "Ahahahaha, we're …" Oh hell, I started talking before even thinking up an excuse! What are we actually? "thieves?" Sounds good enough. "RIGHT! INFORMATION THIEVES! Hands up and spill everything!" All eyes are on me like I would be mad. "Ahm, I'm just trying to ease the tension, it's a joke, alright?" I sigh defeatedly as no one is laughing, people never did, as sure as hell androids wont.

"What are you doing out here? Traci models are not supposed to wander around the backyard. Are you trying to flee from the crime scene?" Connor is completely engulfed in his interrogation mode, ignoring they alarmed reactions. The way the exchange glances, backing off slowly into the building through the open garage door, it's clear we won't get any answers by this direct approach. Although he's completely on point with his suspicion, maybe a friendlier way would get us further.

"Ease it up!" I hush towards him, earning only an irritated look. "You don't want them to escape or to attack us now, do you?" He only contracts his eyebrows, but slowly nods. "Hey guys, ahm - girls, we're on _friendly_ terms here. Nothing personal, just wondering about the police and the whole commotion out there! It would be really nice if you could tell us something about it, _right_?" I nudge him to play along.

"I'm sorry if I made a false first impression. We might have come off on the wrong foot. We should start over." He smiles his best innocent smile. "Should you even be involved in this incident, I will be able to help you." Our whole approach is ridiculous, we don't even know if they're even involved or if they understand what we're talking about, but they are sure as hell acting suspicious.

"Are you really not going to hurt us?" Suddenly the blue haired Traci speaks, while the one with brown hair positions herself behind her, alarmingly looking around the perimeter.

"No. As I've said, I was specifically send by CyberLife. I'm here to get you out of this mess, before the humans have the chance to find out everything." He approaches them slowly, holding his hands up soothingly, while lying through his teeth. As far as I know his prime mission is to disable them and hand them over to CyberLife, although I'm not quite sure how he wants to accomplish this by himself right now.

"No humans? What about her?" The other Traci points suspiciously at me and I try to mimic his smile, it never was my strong feature. If they buy our story after the daft entrance, they're completely stupid or extremely desperate. "Oh, I, … I'm …" I can hardly tell them that I'm his new owner, having him hacked and made obedient - more or less. Deviancy is all about freedom and breaking out of slavery, this is definitely the last thing they would accept hearing.

"She's an engineer and programmer from CyberLife. I brought her along for emergencies." He promptly covers for me and it's astounding how fast he's able to improvise.

The androids are clearly cornered, because of the police they can hardly run back inside, so their options are limited. They will have to trust us eventually. But just as he was about to reach them, both of them freeze, eyes blinking rapidly - indicating they acquired new information.

"Someone's coming!" They proclaim and the panicked expressions seem absolutely genuine to me. For a few long seconds no one dares to move, I'm sure all the androids are calculating their options and the consequences, to determine their best approach.

"Connor! We can't be discovered here!" I grab his arm and tug on his clothes, my heart suddenly jumping up to my throat.

"I can't abandon my mission. They might use this opportunity to escape." He remains firm, not leaving the girls out of his sight, stoically standing his ground.

"We won't get anywhere with your mission if the cops throw us into prison!" I insist, although not quite knowing where we can actually flee to. I would really rather not repeat the whole escapade with the fence again, especially not with a time limit.

"Go! On the right side of this building is a ladder, you can hide on the rooftop." The blue haired Traci takes a few steps towards us, the urgency driving her forward and disregarding the possibility that we might be more dangerous than the ones coming.

"But, what's with you both?" I wonder, while being pushed back to the alley. It's not about someone else capturing them before we get the chance, it strangely enough feels like we're companions avoiding getting caught for different crimes. Although trespassing is far less substantial than murder.

"We can just pretend to be one of the deactivated equipment." They assure us and sprint back inside.

Well, should they decide to flee, we will at least get a good look where they're heading. I grab the ladder and climb up first, closely followed by Connor. Just as he rolls over the edge, we hear distantly a grumpy voice swearing out loudly. "Shit… We're too late." Only seconds later an old man with silver hair emerges from the entrance, gun up high scanning the surroundings. "Hank?" Connor says surprised besides me. "You know h-" The sentence gets stuck in my throat as suddenly _Connor_ appears right beside the guy down below.

I blink a few times, not quite believing the sight. It's dark, maybe I didn't see it right? But it's not only the uniform, its clearly _him_ also taking a short look outside, before going back in. I almost dropped off the roof, bending forward in the attempt to follow the sight, only Connors firm grip saved me just in time - catching me on my collar, pulling me firmly back and away from the edge. I gape at my own Connor in complete disbelief and discover him to be just as surprised as myself for a change. Surely, he told me that CyberLife would send replacements, but nothing prepared me to encounter _exactly_ him. There are millions identical models running around, is it the firm belief that he was a unique prototype that shocks me to this extent? I don't get the time to pursue this thought, as fighting noises ring outward.

Connor and the blue haired Traci practically roll out of the building. A few long seconds where they lie around and his face just twitches, LED blinking yellow where my hands just claw themselves into the ridge worrying for him! A few moments later, the other girl grabs her partners hand and pulls her up to her feet. Even from here I can see the clear desperation in her face, she's just as worried about her as I am about _him_ , but thankfully he gets up as well.

My trembling gets worse and the constant rain soaked completely through my clothes by now. I don't notice the worried look on his face, too occupied to watch the scene playing out below us. Hank tries to stop them, but gets knocked out against the wall effortlessly by the superiour strength of the machines, gun clattering to the floor a good few feet away.

"Oh my god, you're incredible!" I whisper in excitement, as I watch him catch up just in time to pull the blue haired Traci away from the fence. They must have gotten the idea to climb over the damn thing, by watching us both earlier. "Technically it's not me." He replies indifferently.

"But you can do the same things right?" I point at him fighting off both of the androids at the same time, even dodging the metal bar behind him.

"I would execute the same procedures given the same situation, yes."

"So you're incredible then" I wink playfully at him before turning my attention back to the chaos, not wanting to miss a thing. The two Traci's effectively pinned the other Connor against the wall, amplifying their coordinated attacks, but he dodges and blocks them efficiently, getting fast the upper hand.

"According to my simulation he will end up shooting one of them." I hear my Connor say silently, almost as if he's spoken only to himself.

"You can also see the future now?" I know they can simulate different outcomes, to decide which approach to take, how to reply or what to do first, but not to this extent.

"In a way." He shrugs off my amazement.

"If you, the other you - kills them, we won't get anything out of this whole thing." And I would have frozen my ass out here for nothing.

"It's better than to let them get away." Indifferent as always, there is no sympathy for his own kind, he certainly was designed this way.

"We could catch up to them and talk properly. They surely would be grateful enough if we help them." I try to persuade him to help, for what ever reason. Although in the short time I did get the chance to observe them, have seen they attachment, the decisions they made in the heated fight, not to escape alone but always choosing to help each other, I still shouldn't take the side of crazy deviant robots, capable of killing. And since when do I even want him to succeed in his mission?

"That's an argument." Before I realize what he's been doing, he grabs an empty canister and throws it directly at his other self, just in time as the Connor down below was about to pull the trigger. The shot rings through the air - but have being hit by a giant object out of nowhere, changes its trajectory and barely grazes the right arm of the girl. Surprised they look up and meet our eyes for a moment, I barely have the time to form a hand symbol pointing to the building across the street, indicating my intention for us to meet there, as Connor forcefully pulls me away from the edge. "You should not let him see us."

Buried under the cannister and having lost his gun in the process, he stumbles back to his feet, but this time not fast enough as the girls take the chance to flee over the bloody fence.

"Let's hope those deviants have a sense of honor." I whisper into the darkness as he hurries me over to the other side of roof, thankfully it has more than this one ladder. Making me painfully regret I haven't searched for this alternative route in the first place.

The building I pointed to is just straight up ahead, but it would be foolish to take the direct approach, risking in exposing ourselves to the two guys, who are most likely as well still pursuing the subjects. My shivering gets worse by the minute, from all the action I completely forgot about the constant rain. I turn around to make sure that no one is following us, they surely must have grown suspicious about the object we threw from above, but the streets remain silent. Suddenly a warm coat is thrown above my head and I jump from surprise and the build up tension. On the outside its just as wet as my own clothes, but the inside touching me is pleasantly warm from his body. "Um, Connor?" I ask surprised about the action, he surely will freeze to death without any jacket, although he wouldn't be feeling it. I heard that the designs in Russia are specifically resistant against weather or the harsh climate, but here in Detroit the androids are not build to withstand it for prolonged periods of time.

"I will be fine, lets get inside." He marches on forward, without giving me the opportunity to observe his face.

I'm honestly surprised to find them in the abandoned building, right in the next room away from the entrance. The blue haired Traci hugs the other one and carefully examines the wound on her forearm, the bullet only grazed her, but the blue blood seeps through it without restraint. They glance up as they hear us approaching, there is fear clearly written on their faces, but also thankfulness.

"When that man broke the other Traci, I knew I was next." She starts her speech suddenly, skipping the greetings. "I was so scared. I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't." Agape I watch her, never having experienced such a wild array of emotions on an androids face. "And so I put my hands around his throat." I continue shivering, but it's rather the pure hate in her voice, than the cold. "and I squeezed until he stopped moving." There is no regret, only delight about the deed - an android should never, under no circumstances assert to.

Connor remains silent, only observing, not judging the whole thing, but my distress just bursts out. "Thanks for the very vivid picture. Now I can go to sleep with my consciousness all clean and fluffy, that I did the right thing there by helping you both." I try to laugh on my own sarcasm, but it comes out broken. "I didn't mean to kill him." She insists, looking me directly in the eyes. "I just wanted to stay alive." The brown haired Traci stands up from the desk, slowly approaching her and intervening their hands in an impossibly intimate gesture. "To get back to the one I love. I wanted her to hold me in her arms again, make me forget about the humans, their smell of sweat and their dirty words." And I'm vividly reminded about my very own evening, when I met Matthew and somehow, I perfectly understand the motive.

"We're in love." They proclaim in union, their hands squeezing stronger with dripping affection. "You should be able to understand." They address Connor, but pointedly look at me – still, horribly trembling and clutching his coat as though it's the last straw keeping me from falling apart. I concretely get the hint they imply. "Ohm, we're no –" "I'm not a deviant." Connor interrupts my protest, completely disinterested in clearing out the other misunderstanding. They send each other a look speaking sentences, clearly amused.

"Hey! We saved your half naked asses! I'm dying of hypothermia here! I don't need your crap and he's PERFECTLY UNDEVIANT!" I roar, taking a big step forward, radiating the intention to launch myself into a fight I can't possibly win. To my surprise he promptly puts himself between us, right arm outstretched in a defensive manner, almost blocking me completely from their sight. I grab his waistline, raise myself on my tiptoes to gain back some view and send some more deadly glares in their direction, but he shifts with me, determinedly blocking my attempts. I growl but give in, only slightly confused what could have possibly caused him to do this. And rather having discovered a new, pleasant heat source - I get a sudden idea and wrap my body unceremoniously around his back.

A few moments of silence, while neither party is moving or saying anything and I start to wonder if those girls just vanished while I wasn't looking.

"I will connect with you." Suddenly one of the girls offers. "Are you sure?" The other asks distressed. "You will disclose your whole being to him just like that? The other RK800 just shot you!"

"Love, it's like you're saying all models in our series are also exactly the same. Especially both of us should know better than that." If they knew - he would have acted exactly the same. I wonder if my stupid display of 'affection' really made the difference for them to think so.

"You have to know, we really appreciate your help."

I sneak a peek, as their intervened hands deactivate their skin and start to glow under the touch. I practically feel his body tense up and hear his engine slightly growing louder, while they transfer an impossible amount of information, downloading it into his local system and storing it away. I can't see his face from my angle, but I certainly can observe hers. Not quite believing the delight clearly painted in her face, the closed eyes, the slightly opened mouth, all speaking volumes about the currently shared intimacy between them and something in me _wakes_. Overwhelmed by this feeling, I need first a few moments to define the source. I've never felt it in such a horrible, strong intensity ever before and it throws me off guard. My hands claw themselves stronger into his shirt, as I bury my face into his back, no longer wanting to watch. I twitch in surprise as his other hand gently closes around mine, which is still firmly clutched on his side, a gesture of calm reassurance and god help me, my heart speeds up. The all-consuming _jealousy_ rampaging in my chest slightly loosens its tight grip on the chaste, soothing skin contact.

"Thank you for your cooperation." He calmly sates as they break apart. Not wasting any more time, the girls haste away, a sharp clicking sound resonating over the dull floor.

I should let go, my behavior is highly inappropriate, the hug did their trick, there is no excuse to remain in contact. Just a moment longer, I repeat silently in my head, as he patiently waits without asking questions. Why is it so hard to let go?

"undeviant is not a word, but I appreciate your conviction" He speaks into the on stretching silence. Even in my ears the word deviant sounds like a curse, something that just doesn't supposed to happen to android, something that breaks them. Although I would rather take the side of an android than of a human being, one of the reasons was their unconditional obedience, their gentle characters, their beautiful, but manipulative complexity. Certainly not the irrational, unpredictable, horrible behavior some of them obviously managed to develop. "mhm" Is my only reply.

I don't remember ever hugging anyone like this before. Any human contact was always somehow unpleasant, dull or even boring, as though something was always missing. But this simple, completely innocent connection seeps through my whole being, engulfs me in an addictive manner, I can't possibly get ever enough of.

"We should go back to your apartment and analyze the evidence I've acquired." He pulls me around, my grip sliding off easily, like I would be nothing but a weightless doll once again. "And get you properly warmed up." He smiles gently, a short fleeting moment of perfectly believable affection, before his gaze shifts towards the exit and neutralizes again.

I still tremble like a leaf as he pulls me by the hand towards the taxi. A few silent moments where my mind just goes haywire in concern and confusion about the sudden shifts in his behavior pattern. The ride is quite long and the wet clothes feel terrible against my skin, I can count myself lucky if I won't get a fever later.

With every passing moment I grow steadily more embarrassed and mortified. What did just got into me? Wouldn't he be an android, I'm sure the awkwardness between us would be already up through the roof, but he seems perfectly unflustered, watching calmly the dark scenery outside. Noticing my eyes on him he promptly turns and scans my still shaking body skeptically up and down.

"There is high probability that you will catch a cold, this would hinder any further progress in my investigation." And without further notice, pulls me over against him - once again the completely mechanical, pragmatical self. I don't complain, leaning awkwardly against his hard body, trying to find the most comfortable position.

"Why did you put yourself between me and the two Traci's?" I just have to ask.

"You've said yourself that we need them alive in order to gain more information." Chuckling I grow proud how good he's at making stupid jokes, as if it would be my own bad influence prompting him to do so. Although I'm still curious about his actual motive, I don't push the issue and rather decide to enjoy his body heat, while my tensed muscles gradually cease their trembling.

I try to hold my hand still, his thin white blouse is just as wet as my own clothes. The fabric clinging neatly to his skin, making it almost transparent. It's incredible how indifferent he seems to the intrusion into his personal space, almost as if I wouldn't be there at all. Hearing him breathing, his chest evenly moving against my head, certainly has a calming effect, almost to the point where I could drift to sleep. I move my head slightly allowing myself to hear the beating of his thirium pump, a steady, comforting sound. His hand slides down from the backseat and rests easily on the side of my body, pulling me a tad closer to him. I have the hardest time ever not to let out a huff accidentally, to continue breathing evenly, to will my hands not to tremble.

"Although you feel uncomfortable, I have to point out that transferring body heat, is the most effective way to keep you warm at this moment." I must have grown stiff to cause this misunderstanding. My mind clouding as I try to find the right words to say. There is nothing I could possibly enjoy more than him hugging me right here like this, I enjoy it too much in a way, wishing the one hour long ride would last even longer. It's incredibly relaxing to _know,_ that he doesn't get the wrong thoughts by being as close as this, there is no danger in exposing my own vulnerability like that, he doesn't take my actions as a promise I _have_ to fulfill, but at the same time a mad fleeting thought wishes it would be otherwise.

"It feels like you're repairing me, Connor." I squeeze out of myself almost choking on those words, not meaning the cold, neither the trembling, but rather the craving of my whole soul. And strangely, _incredibly_ enough he grows still. Ceasing his breathing, even the engine in his chest falling to a silent power mode, where I barely hear it although my ear is pressed completely against him. I could bite off my own tongue, there is hardly anything worse you could possibly ever admit to a man, although I hoped he wouldn't get it. I shouldn't underestimate an android, he must have figured the wrong – the very right _–_ idea of what I've meant and that can now only take a terrible direction.

For a few horrible seconds which feel like minutes, he remains unmoving, only his heartbeat, which definitely has picked up in its speed, tells me that he's still operating. Just as I was about to pull myself out of his space, he pushes me back into himself and god help me, now my heart also explodes in my chest. Well - now - I'm definitely uncomfortable, but remain still against him.

My mind can't handle the emotional impact, the implication, the racing thoughts telling me that everything is just in my own imagination. Hopes surfacing where they don't belong and squash them indefinitely in an endless cycle of confusion. Until I just decide to fuck those horrible insecurities to hell and bask instead in the short pleasure, my destiny pitifully has send my way. Wrapping my arms stronger around his torso, pushing my head harder into his chest, pulling myself even closer, touching all the wet clothes down the length of his legs, till the terrible sensation of coldness is replaces by the warmness of our mingled body heat.

"Are you alright?" And it comes out as a stutter, voice incredibly soft and reaching once again every single broken emotion of mine. I blame the long day, the chaos of recent events, the weather, my own tiredness, but it all comes back to the deep craving, the hole in my chest which screams out in constant pain and which I barely manage to cover with stupid jokes.

"I think, I'm not." I manage. His hand lands on my forehead, large, warm and encompassing. "37,8° C. It's a bit over the norm, but nothing serious." I shiver on the contact, everything about him is so incredibly warm. I should be glad about the opportunity, to blame everything upon, instead I only miss the touch as soon as it leaves me, hopelessly craving something I still can't quite place, it almost threatens to devour me. Desperately I search for a conversation topic to distract this chaos in me.

"How was it, being connected to another android like this?" Obviously being the first thing, which runs through my head.

"I relived vividly her situation. I felt the moment where she decided to turn deviant, as if I would have been there myself." Again, the dormant emotion slightly lifts its head, but gets quickly overwritten by another, more permanent concern. "Aren't you afraid it might influence you?"

"Don't worry, I was specifically designed to resist deviancy. I self test regularly." And somehow with those words the tension in his body changes. I can't pinpoint the exact action, but the way he's been holding himself just shifts and suddenly it feels like I'm hugging a _machine -_ a hollow object which only emanates artificial warmth. A discomforting, empty sensation creeping itself into me, a horrible feeling of loss and regret to have asked this.

Closing my eyes, just for a little bit, I decide to relax my thoughts, just for a moment. Maybe I'm too sensitive, it's been an impossibly long day, all those things happening must have been simply too much. Just for a few minutes, just until I can think clearly again…

And with this, I end up falling asleep.


	7. Chapter 10

First there is utter silence, persistently laying on my ears, lulling me back to sleep and even as I open my eyes there is only dark to be seen. It's not surprising for me to wake in the middle of the night, there are countless reasons, maybe my subconsciousness heard something, maybe I was too thirsty, or have to use the toilet. But this time, there is an unfamiliar stuffiness, my legs and arms screaming in despair as countless needles spike through my skin - the horrible pain when your legs go dead from lying too long in the same position and just keep you from going back to sleep.

This is the very moment where I notice the fact that I can't move.

The darkness is unnatural, I tend not only to keep the blinds, but even the windows open to enjoy fresh air and light. Conversely to the rest of human kind, having limitless energy at the soft silence of the night and getting all tired by the persistent shine of sunlight. Something is not right. The blackness is complete to a point where you can't quite tell if your eyes are even open or not. I frantically search for a shape to fix my eyes upon, to let them find a spot where I can make sure that all of this is not a dream, that everything is just my own imagination. A flicker of blue, a cold, detached small light in the very far corner of my room, where it doesn't _belong_. I don't remember buying a nightlight, or any new gear for the matter, the thoughts too sluggish to comprehend or remember the recent events.

There is an old saying, should you ever look into the mirror while it's too dark to see your own reflection - a morphed creature will take the place of your shadow, following you for the rest of your life. I'm not sure why exactly at this moment I was remembering the stupid Korean superstition, but I perfectly well panic as the certainty of the fact hits me, that my only mirror is located exactly at the corner where the bitsy thing floats.

Even such a small thing as the mechanical light on top of the button of your TV, or the playful illumination of a firefly, gives out a tangible distinction about its energy, might it be alarming, soothing, or neutral. For the very life of me, in the sleep encompassed state it feels like a foreign soul hanging in the darkness of my room. Flickering from time to time in a hypnotizing manner, as if you would have stared too long into the _living_ flames.

A cold shudder runs down my still tingling arms and I struggle heavily against my restraints. There is no budging and wouldn't it be desperately dark I swear there would be small puffs of air leaving my mouth to the unnatural coldness of my room. In winter it's only logical that the temperature drops in the night, but shouldn't it be relatively warm in the safety of my own apartment?

It always starts with chilled air.

The thought crosses my mind fleetingly, like an unwanted visitor you brush away without a proper greeting. Maybe this isn't even my room? Like searching for confirmation, my eyes almost pop from effort to make out the glittery substance of the mirror! The light is not helping in term of illumination, it doesn't reach the object it must be attached on, especially not enough to reflect anything in the mirror it's right in front of.

Why am I even trying to look into it?

I really shouldn't. Not believing in superstitions as a scientist, I still abide by the simple rule not to provoke my destiny. When strange things keep piling up, the uneasiness just creeps up your spine like a hand brushing only the fine hairs of your skin. My mother always told me, never to ignore your intuition. There is logic for sure, desperately trying to explain things while you're faced with unknown situations, but it's also a foolishness to deceive yourself in safety when you clearly should run.

There is a huff. A half croaked moan, as I fight against the thing keeping me in place. It's barely audible, but the sound almost screams in this silence. I don't see it, but something in the darkness shifts. My eyes searching every corner in this blackness for confirmation, as though seeing something right before it attacks would do you any good. But my gaze is pulled back to the only thing I can actually see, with a dreadful certainty - that the feeling of being stared at - comes exactly from this direction.

There is no way to make out any eyes, or a human shape, there is only the layout of my room in my mind, should it even be the case. I cough, suppressing the urgency to ask the most stupid question in history - if there would be someone there, or something - they wouldn't be lurking in the darkness without saying a thing. It must be my own reflection staring right back into me, creating the horrible tingling I desperately try to shake and with it the furtive feeling, that I should have avoided to even look that way.

First thing in the morning I'm gonna get rid of all the mirrors in my bedroom, a smile lifting the corner of my lips, as I shake my head on the foolishness of the thought. I need to get my hands free first, although I will have to cross the room to reach the light switch, it's still the most sensible thing to strive for. Only my wiggling comes to a sudden halt as a pair of eyes, suddenly stare right towards me. Three times you can guess from where.

It's not quite as if the pupils would glow blue, it's more an unstable lightning illuminating them through super thin wiring, ingulfed right into the iris and electricity shooting right trough. A metallic, soulless blue, piercing at your very being. I close my eyes for a second, hoping it's just my messed up mind playing tricks on me.

The fucking eyes moved! A good few steps towards me, freezing right at the moment where I open mine again. As though if unsure should they proceed to come closer, tracing my body up and fixing themselves on my face, unemotionally staring. I stop shifting immediately, not to provoke it any further. Don't blink - I could almost laugh on the reference. But I don't get a breather as I hoped, as they just launch themselves at me in an impossibly fast speed and I scream the soul out of my lunges.

The light flickers on without anyone having touched the switch. A confused android looming above my shaking body, head tipped to the side in question. The electric blue in his eyes dies and is slowly replaced by a brown color. Bleeding back into his pupils and making his face all soft and warm, only irritation clearly written in his features.

"Connor?" I obviously recognize him immediately, but the very fact that he's real and not having been just a dream surprises me. The recent events way too surreal to having them properly processed by my subconsciousness.

"You screamed. Is everything alright?"

"The fuck were you doing standing across from my room in the darkness! STARING AT ME THE WHOLE BLOODY TIME!" I give him my grumpiest glare, a few sweat drops forming on my temples.

"I wasn't staring. I only woke up from standby mode as soon as I heard you shifting."

"Standby? Since when do androids even do that?" Is that what you call now this creepy behaviour, made for nightmares?

"It's easier to process the giant amount of data I acquired while not responding to my environment." I shouldn't blame him for this action, you never know if the downloaded information from the Traci contained any bugs or deliberate traps. He must have stored most of it in a safe environment, before sniping it to pieces, deleting unnecessary mess and analysing the important factors. Even for a highly advanced computer this surely must take hours and I supposed to be glad he didn't try to handle the whole load on the go, meaning his security and system stability is perfectly prioritized, just as I wished. Still...

"Fuck! Why were you doing this in my room? There is a perfectly big enough couch in the living room." I don't remember arriving at home. He must have let himself in and placed me into bed.

"You introduced parameters, requiring me to stay at your side. Without any further instructions, it was the next logical thing." There is no way to win an argument against him. For every upset remark, he has a methodical, completely practical explanation.

"You scared the living shit out of me!"

"Your dopamine levels have spiked, but nothing that would require the change of underwear."

"I'm gonna kill you and throw you in the dumpster! Why did you wrap me in four blankets so I can't even move a muscle? I thought someone kidnapped me and threw me into a dark prison or something." I know I sound silly, but having my heart still beating in my throat, I'm not amused enough to laugh about the whole situation.

"You prefer the blends up at night? Noted for further collaboration."

"That's not the issue here? Get me out of this mess!" Pointing with my gaze to the sausage of sheets, encompassing my body like a straitjacket, he must have created for some reason while I was out for the world. And there I wanted to close my eyes just for a minute, having a light sleep I can only wonder how he managed to trap me so tightly without waking me up.

"Of course." And promptly grabs the thick layer of blankets at one corner and just rolls me out and down from the bed like a windup doll. Having landed pretty hard on the cold floor and head spinning, I furiously grab the very first pillow to my left and throw it at him in revenge. He dodges unsurprisingly, still waiting blandly for further instructions.

"And why would anyone even wonder why people tend to hate androids. Jesus." Only now having noticed that I still have his coat around my shoulders and being fully clothes, minus the shoes, it can only mean he was modest enough not to undress me in my sleep. Being furious I still can't help but smile on the cute notion.

He's an android, there shouldn't be a problem to change the dirty clothes right in front of him, I wonder if he would mind - since he rather messed up my sheets than to see me without clothes. I watch his face intently while letting his jacket fall to floor. A languid slow motion as I peel myself out of my own, there is still no reaction. Tentatively I start to unbutton the top of my blouse, his eyes follow the movements of my hands till my belly is exposed and shamelessly look back up where the hint of the bra is peeking out under my clothes. He tilts his head slightly to the side, like he's unsure what to make out of the situation, as I reluctantly, ever so slowly expose more and more of my skin. His eyebrows shoot up, as the thin fabric also lands to my feet. I should go next for my belt, but my heart strangely enough just drums excitedly in my chest, hands trembling so bad I can't quite grasp the lashes. He's not a man, I repeat in my head while trying to keep my face straight, not to lick my suddenly dried out lips as his gaze just briefly lands on them. I never stripped in front of a guy in such lascivious manner, daring him with my eyes, while still moving as casually as if I would change in a girls room, or in front of a family member, just a tad slower. The belt springs finally open and I pause on the single button separating my bare legs and lower underwear for him to be seen, his eyes are fixed on my hands and for all the gods out there, he doesn't feel ANYTHING like an android - like an object which you shouldn't pay any attention.

To my horror, he suddenly shifts out of his stupor and promptly grasps HIS OWN BELT! A few swift, skillful movements where he OBVIOUSLY is just about to free IT out his pants, having perfectly well 'WRONGLY' interpreted the situation. This is the second time I screech through my whole apartment in the middle of the night, if my neighbors don't come banging on my door I will have to set up an apology basket in front of their doors the next day. Why would he even start with THAT?

My face just burns as I can't help but notice the soft blue underwear just barely peeking out of his zipper. A clear question written all over his face, completely patient and innocent, as though he wasn't just about to engage in intercourse. I didn't intend to! I DIDN'T! Did I? Why am I worked up as badly!?

"Did I do something wrong?" I feel guilty! Of all things! I just wanted to mess around a bit, my curiosity getting the better of me. But now I have to explain to the poor machine the situation, without making it painfully obvious that I led him on. I can't help but hide my face in embarrassment, who would have known he would just GO WITH IT, like it was **nothing**!? Surely I shouldn't have expected him getting embarrassed, he's a machine for god's sake! I should get my shit together and stop mixing them up, just like the rest of the world, perfectly managing to keep them at an arm's length and never confusing them with humans.

"You! YOU MESSED UP MY SHEETS! I just wanted you to clean them together with my clothes!" Sometimes an attack is the best defence. He frowns observing my face, then looking up to the pile of clothing under my feet and then analysing the bed as though there were some clues written on it, besides the few stains. His right eyebrow is lifted up as he looks back in my further reddening face. "The contamination of cat hair and food crumbs which was already present, dedicated the unnecessity of any caution to - mess up your sheets any further." The irony in his voice peaking on the last bit. I don't think my face could get any redder, but I am sure it just did. "Besides, it's not one of my main functionalities to do house chores." He smiles, that bastard.

If I could kill with my eyes, I swear he would just drop dead on the spot right there. "But since you asked so nicely I can make an exception." Still smiling, he closes the distance between us and just knees right in front of my feet to pick up the discarded clothes. Looking up back in my face, the closeness to his body and his _peculiar_ position, down below, meeting my eyes - I suddenly get very well aware that I'm standing just in my bra and pants in front of him. His gaze wanders down, and I can literally _see_ what he must be thinking - my pants are _dirty_ as well.

I gulp, feeling lightheaded and frantic, taking a few shaky steps back and away from his proximity. "Just take the sheets with you, the washer is in the bathroom, I will bring you the pants right away!" I stutter and turn around, feeling horribly exposed and excited at the same time. I somehow expect him not to comply, blood shooting through my body till I feel it tingling in my fingertips, eyes pressed closed as I wait and just try to calm down. The hair in the back of my neck standing up as I try to make out the sounds of his footsteps, walking through the room and every time he comes closer, I just expect him to do ... _something_.

Only as I hear the door open and close again. Indicating that he finished rounding up the laundry, I vacuum the air into my lounges. Holy shit. I will NEVER change in front of that android again!


	8. Chapter 14

Almost a decade of living alone, leaving you impossibly desperate and hallow. Unfamiliar sounds clattering from the kitchen as I peel my eyes open to finally be greeted by sunlight. The sheets smell fresh and soft, all white and completely cleaned. It's a soothing feeling and an alarmingly good start for the day. Although I heard him just moments before, I still can't be quite sure if it's not only in my imagination that there is actually someone roaming my space. I'm afraid to stand up and face him, afraid that as soon as I will open the door he won't be there, that my hopelessness got the better of me and I've gone finally mad.

Now that I have him, I don't even know what to do with him. It's surreal having a man standing in your apartment, smiling at you gently as if he would have been there since the beginning of time.

"Good morning, it's good that you're awake. Breakfast is ready." He stands there having an apron around his neck and a pan in his left, the tasty smell of bacon and eggs spreading through the room. I can't quite believe the sight. Why would he make it without any prompt to do so?

"What got into you? Why would you cook for me?" It can't be poisoned - at least I know he's not allowed to harm me willingly.

"I've deciphered the code I got yesterday, it should lead us directly to Jericho. We should depart as soon as possible, so I took the liberation of saving our time by preparing your nutriment." Ah, how stupid of me to feel so touched on the gesture.

"Jericho?"

"It's the name of they base, where all the deviants assemble and hide from society. I've only got a coded key, but I should figure out the direction as soon as I find the appropriate lock."

"A key? Like those QR codes?"

He nods approvingly, pleased that I can follow the train of thoughts. "Yes, only slightly more complex. Here, take a seat." It's my home, but he strolls around as if he has lived here forever.

He places the hot and completely perfect round egg on my plate and slides a few bacon slices on the corner besides it. Picture book shaped meal, it's almost too beautiful to eat, I should rather make a photo and post it somewhere. Only that I never used any of those countless socializing platforms.

As soon as I take the first bite, he already interrupts. "How is it?" Does he want to be praised now? Ridiculous robot.

"Good. Just as it's supposed to be. Didn't you try it yourself?" Mostly wondering if androids even can determine the tastiness.

"No. I just strictly followed the recipe." He sits down across me and intently follows every movement I make. It's somewhat unnerving how he lingers on my mouth. Just a little bit more concentration and he would mimic the way I open it without eating anything himself.

"Can you even tell the taste?"

"I can analyse the substances, the amount of calories and carbohydrates contained, calculate the scientifically determined flavour carriers." That's so exactly not what I was asking.

"What would happen if you eat it?"

"Nothing. I can digest the food just as you do." Androids going to the toilet? No, no wrong thought direction girl.

"Then try it."

"There is no value in wasting perfectly fine food."

Oh, I think I've just found the perfect game to play with him. "I want to see your reaction."

"There wouldn't be any." Nope honey, you won't get out of this one so easily.

"Please?" I'm a monster and I know it.

Sighing defeated on my insistence, he leans slightly forward and opens his mouth, indicating that I should just lay a piece of my choice right into it.

Chewing tentatively he ignores my glistening eyes as I watch him even for the slightest reaction. How could you possibly not appreciate bacon?

"Crusty" He states and leans back, without as much as a twitch on his face. I'm not giving up, grinning mischievously I hast towards the fridge and sneak out a lemon. His eyes follow my movement and I can tell, he's curious to know what I'm up to now.

"Don't look, it's a surprise." I block his view with my body while slicing a particularly large bit out from the middle.

"We shouldn't waste anymore time." He huffs in a simulated indignation, beckoning with his head towards the half eaten plate.

"Just this one bit, then I will eat the whole breakfast before you can even blink, deal?" I wink, trying my best to hide the bursting ill intention.

"Alright, although it's unhealthy to devour food in a fast manner."

"Now, close your eyes." I have the hardest time not to giggle. I don't know what to expect, just remembering the first time I ever gave one of my cats a bit of lemon. They disastrous reaction was simply priceless.

This one is a super acid kind, the sourness would creep through your teeth and anyone biting into one directly should just drop dead on the spot. I like sour things. And what I like even more? Sadistic experiments on my freshly acquired android, right as the first task in the morning. And there I thought being one of those very few humans who're against torturing treatment.

"Open your mouth." Reluctantly his lips plop open, a breath leaving them.

"Wider." Kneeling across his lap, finger inches away from his face, he's obediently following my instructions. Damn why is it so hard to focus here? I can see the tip of his tongue in the slightly opened mouth, laying there, waiting. I hesitate on his relaxed expression, he's so vulnerable that my heart can't help but speed up on the imagination what else I could just do to him.

He frowns ever so slightly as the juice spreads in his mouth, but continues chewing, eyes fluttering open - an incredulous look on his face, almost accusing. He doesn't speak it out loud but I can clearly tell what he must be thinking. What was I trying to pull here?

"It's supposed to be sour. I can tell, the acid successfully assaults the walls of my bio components." He gulps it down, instead of spitting the slice back out and my eyes trail the movement of his Adam's apple. There is a definite urge to just relax the weight of my legs and sit down completely at his lap, to close my mouth with his and catch the aftertaste of the fresh fruit from his tongue. To my horror he seems to read my thoughts directly from my face, eyes all knowing and intensely observing my own and I vehemently shake my head, stumbling away from him, searching for space. What is he doing to me? I barely even know him! Why is his proximity so incredibly alluring?

"Right! The breakfast." I don't look up a single time as I gulp down the rest of the food and run back into my room to change. I'm super fast at getting ready - polished skills right there. Every single morning I end up too late to work. Pushing my sleep till the very last second, until there is only an intolerable amount of time left to arrive at your leisure. Always running, from the bed to the toilet, towards the car, from the parking lot to the company's building, up the stairs. Having just the exact minimum amount of time to brush my teeth and hair, throw the cat food onto its plate and taking the very first best thing to wear.

I'm not in a rush now, but it became a habit.

"You look ... professional." He states as soon as I leave my room again.

"You mean nice?"

"No, the choice of your clothing fits very well to our undertaking. Practical footwear, dark fabric, warm clothes. I approve." There is no emotion on his face, only blank calculation.

"Thanks, I guess? Do you want other clothes, maybe hiding the startling fact that you're an android?"

"No." He furrows his brows. "It's forbidden for androids to hide they identity. I would be immediately destroyed on discovery. I must not put myself to any unnecessary danger." His all stoical and insistent, refusing even a simple hoodie to cover his LED. My goddamn tampering, now shooting me back into my ass.

"Alright, there is still something we have to do before we set out. Sit down on the chair." He follows the instruction obediently as I restart my computer and prepare all the necessary equipment. It doesn't take that much time, but I can tell he's eager to get going, watching scrutinizingly my every move.

He starts fidgeting with a coin as I stand behind him, opening a compartment under his skin and putting a wire which connects directly with his system. "Hold still" It's just a slight movement with his wrist as he sends the coin between his open palms, catching it in precise and remarkable ease. But to connect the super thin wires with my trembling hands is hard enough already, I don't need him jerking in the process as well.

"I really would appreciate if you would just reenable my communication systems. Trust me, I won't contact CyberLife again, I've learned my lesson." He stops throwing the small thing between his palms, instead just flicks it upward. A soft ringing each time his fingernail propels the object into the air.

"But like this we will be connected" I strike through his hair with my fingertips, trailing through the thin strands, pulling on them gently. They're soft and completely without any spliss or grease. Opening my palm I connect my whole skin with his scalp and encompass his head in an endearing motion. The coin changes its trajectory, fails to be caught on time, bounces of his hand and rolls over the floor, disappearing under the table. Good, no more fidgeting - although it wasn't my intention.

"Alright, if you insist." Unsure what to do with his hands anymore he just folds them into each other, resting them back on his knees. For a robot he's surprisingly restless.

"Good boy." He doesn't answer, but blinks shyly to the side, inclining his head. "Oh, don't tell me you like it when I call you like that?" If an android could blush, I'm sure he would. "You're adorable Connor." I pat him tenderly and turn away to my computer. There is a single silver wire, already connected to my glasses, lying on the table and waiting to be powered on.

I never would have thought that the overpriced glasses would actually find a serious usefulness one day. Those micro bots are tightly entrapped into the frame and run over hundred thousand processes in a minute, projecting information directly to the iris, so it feels like a holographic image is floating in the air. Those are extremely expensive and the only officially allowed applications are stupid gadgets, informing you about the weather, the traffic on your route to work, or projecting a map for navigation purposes and the like. Most people wouldn't bother obtaining them, it's more a nerd thing. There is even sharp criticism about the doubtful healthiness of those things, manipulating directly the eye and probably even damaging sustainably ones sight. Who cares? Technology for the win! I need glasses on daily basis anyways and they're really light and comfortable to wear. Also with a little bit of work and knowledge about what you're doing, you can break those restrictions up and apply a world of endless possibilities.

My sweet little robot will have finally the opportunity to access the world wide net of android internet again. Filtered through the ports of my own device and strictly monitored access rights of course. It's not like I want to supervise his every decision, it's annoyingly hard work and attention I would rather pass on, but I really can't have him contact CyberLife, or leaving any traces about our illegal activities for them to find us. I'm sure he's just lying in wait for the right opportunity.

Tapping into his system is always an overwhelming experience, this time he doesn't try to block my access and willingly lets me manipulate his interfaces. Such a good boy. I smile in his direction, but there is no reaction, he just waits, eyes lying on me patiently. The most important thing is the knowledge about his location, after that - the monitoring about his vital systems and immediate notifications about any damage. Should we ever get separated, at least I will know where to find him and which components need replacement. Although I don't have any more spare parts, I'm sure there are tons of other android models running around I can hack and disassemble in case of emergencies.

It's a good thing that today is Sunday, I think I will have to call in sick for the next week. I can hardly go to work and concentrate on my job as my android has the ultimate mission to save the world from deviants and is intent on running around through the whole town.

"You have a cat, right? What's your cat's name?" It's interesting how much attention he pays to details. There are countless cat toys littering the floor and he already mentioned cat hair on my bed. But why would an android be interested in animals, they don't have anything to do with his objectives.

"Catsup." The laid back personality of my little black fiend perfectly describes his nature. You can poke and annoy him all you want, he won't move a muscle, only yawning in your face when you try your best to agitate him. A perfect companion to cuddle with, as you watch serials or play a game on your couch.

"I like cats. Why isn't he here?" Oh, I know, it must be his socializing module speaking.

"He's sick. I gave him to my parents for the time being, cause I can't stay at home all day long and care for him in a way he would deserve."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not that bad. Just an eye inflammation, he probably stayed too long on the balcony. I'm sure you will meet soon enough." The smile reaches his eyes and I can't help but imagine him standing there, little furred animal in his arms as it bites playfully his fingers.

"So, you like cats? Do you like cats or dogs more?" It's a trick question and I just have to snoot my lips.

"I like both." I knew it.

"Nope, that doesn't count. If you don't have a preference and there always is one - even if it's just a slight nudge - then it's like saying you don't _like_ them at all. It reveals your fake opinion. You really should work on your socializing module Connor." I grin mischievously as his LED circles yellow.

"I don't have enough data to decide that yet. I'll learn more about them and try to form a concrete statement." Sneaky bastard, but I let it slide.

Communication systems, check. GPS tracking, check. Monitoring of hardware stability, check. Firewall up and running.

I try the glasses on and connect to his visuals, watching his world view through his eyes and my heart bristles on the way his gaze is strictly focused on my frame. It's a strange, unknown perception, too much information balled into yellow digits surrounding my body. Heartbeat, name, occupation, diagnostics calibrating probabilities running in an endless stream on the corner of his visuals. As my eyes meet his, right through the wave of the projected sequence, there is a sudden static, like a short wave of disruption and a sharp notification / Software instability increases / sets my head reeling and I have to disconnect or I'm afraid my brain might explode.

"Holy hell Connor!" This is the first time I attempted the experience to watch the world through an androids eyes. Humans should really not try that, we don't have the capacity to absorb the flood of data and cope with the signals.

"I'm sorry, are you alright?" It's not his fault, why is he so keen on apologizing on every opportunity? I'm rather concerned what the blurring notification about his instability meant. "Yes, yes. Don't worry I won't do that gain unless it's an emergency."

Tapping on the frame of my glasses, I pull over the tightly wrapped up data, containing only the information I really need about him and disconnect all the cables from my system.

"You sure you need all this equipment?"

"Yep, never leave the house without a laptop." I put all the hardware into my backpack, although I'm aware that it's quite heavy and will slow us down.

"So where are we going?" As I push the front door open, checking left and right to make sure no one is there to notice my new android and avoid unnecessary trouble. Just on cue Connor sends me the part of the map of Detroit - a red circle stretching across a wide area. As far as I know, this region is mainly abandoned, an old neglected district where you only would visit to seek trouble. Awesome, I'm thrilled already.

"Jericho should be around this area. The encrypted key from the WR400 should lead us rights towards they hideout."

This time we take the train, since the area pertains the train station anyways. It's awkward as he takes the back space - the one especially segregated for androids - without hesitance when I make myself comfortable on a cushy seat. He stares into space, together with all the other obedient, normal androids.

It's incredibly uncomfortable watching him like this through the glass, I would rather have him sit next to me. I could have laid my head on his shoulder, casually closed my eyes, relaxing to the soft shake of the train and sparing me from paying attention at which station we're currently at. But it's not allowed to, even with the consent of the owners, there are no exceptions. For whatever reason.

So I'm left awkwardly alone in my seat, only glad that the wagon isn't stuffed with countless human bodies, like on normal business days and I don't have to share my seat. Sitting together with strangers, they smell of cigarettes, too strong perfume, they constant talking on the phone, the crying out babies. It's a nightmare. That's why I can't live without a car, that's why the whole incident even happened.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as we reach our station, him already greeting me on the opened doors and precociously handing me a hand as I step out of the glided doors.

"How exactly will we start?" He shows me a picture, some sort of graffiti you can mostly find on the walls of abandoned houses, train stations, under the bridges and the like. He projects it into his palm like holding an actual solid object. The colors are mostly dark and blue, presenting a man kneeling, clothes torn and behind him some sort of garbage - or objects which are hard to define. The picture not all the usual street material, it carries a defining hopeless emotion.

It doesn't take long to find the real reference, it's right there on the wall of the station. I inspect the picture, now in full size, the impact of the content quite different, quite overwhelming. It's mixed between the usual slogans and crap, but it's stands out like a single cloud on a sunny day.

"What now?" We finally located the thing, but there is nothing in the area, no secret entrances, no sewer hatches, no arrows pointing to the direction where we should head next.

"Found it." Connor proclaims only a few seconds after.

"What? I can't see anything. Where?"

"It's digital, you can't see the code with your naked eye." Good thing I have my glasses.

"Send it over." - A layer of white lines, formed into some sort of cubicle is hidden in the picture. But they're not lines as such, but code arrayed into zeroes and ones, so tightly packed together that without zooming in it just resembles a square with ears. "Whoa." Clever, so only androids can actually find and analyse this key, which will lead them towards the next puzzle piece. I watch him scanning the thing and forming the next picture in his hand.

"It's a painting again." We inspect the next one in his palm curiously. It's a small angry red thing, showing only a random face which could belong to anyone, but the expression in his eyes is startling. Brows furled, yellow and black dots in the background - a stark contrast to the gaudy theme. If you ask me, it feels more like a warning then a disguise. I shake the dubious feeling and look around shorty, searching the walls in our immediate view for the picture, but there is nothing to find.

"Let's split up." I propose.

"Are you sure?" Why is he so hesitant? Shouldn't he jump on the chance for a free minute?

"Yea, we can call each other as soon as we find it. Or do you plan to run off?"

"No, I will always remain at your side unless ordered otherwise." I totally love it when he phrases it that way. My sweet obedient robot.

"Good, lets search then."

Surprisingly enough I find it first. It was behind a fence, good thing there was a wooden board hiding a hole in it. I'm really not fond of fences. Instead of opening the link and immediately calling Connor over, I inspect the large painting. The face seems - concerned - like there is too much to cope with, only red and stark emptiness surrounding the person. There is no LED on his forehead, nothing pointing out that the person is an android, but I really get the feeling that he definitely is.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I jump a few feet in the air, taking a defensive stance and whirling around. Hands and feet raised, mimicking a karate stance.

"You promised to call over." Connor reprimands. Hey, it were just a few minutes. He couldn't have possibly finished searching _his_ whole side, it was way larger than the place I've went for.

Instead of defending myself, I rather ask. "Don't you think the pictures are ..." He finishes the question for me. "exceptional"

Yea, they really leave an impact. They're nothing like I've ever seen, but to my excuse I haven't seen that many paintings. It's even strange that the deviants would choose pictures which could drive so much attention, I'm sure we're not the only ones noticing the striking art.

He refuses to split up again, we follow the narrow side street until there is nothing but a backyard. It wouldn't make any sense to turn back, the next clue must be hidden somewhere around here.

"We could climb up here." He points to a half broken fire ladder, a construct of stairs and platforms, leading to a strait roof. Indeed there is a corner peaking out of the next wall painting, just right out of view.

With a few swift steps he jumps up and grabs the ledge, the structure gives a compelled noise, creaking in protest about the heavy weight. Connor doesn't waste any more time and makes the next jump to the roof, right as the whole thing crashes with a hell for leather against the concrete. I just shake my head on the unnecessary risk.

Indecisive he looks down to me, unsure how to proceed with the situation. Helpless like a lost puppy which just escaped the leash in its eagerness and now doesn't know the way back home. To my own surprise, I'm completely composed, having already an idea. Although I didn't quite calculate my own strength in.

"Should I come down and help you." He watches me throwing myself against a trash container with the whole weight of my side. It's one of those bulky giant things with a blue lid and small wheels attached. Being completely full it's not such a simple task to get it to budge.

"No stay where you are, I won't be able to pull you back up again." This way it will be way easier. Stressing out - easy.

Every time I get it to move, it's a dull thud - like a bird having crashed against a window. It moves a few centimeters, sturdily intent on making my life harder than it already is.

"I'm sorry, I didn't calculate the fragility of this facility. Next time I will first make sure that you reach our destination first." Yea, yeah, I'm sure he's enjoying watching me suffer.

After twenty minutes of lurking around the container, changing the directions to nudge it slightly left, then right, then left again till it pushed back against the wall where Connor is waiting. I'm completely done with the world.

I climb up atop the damn thing and he has to hang half of his body down and still can't reach my fingertips. I try to jump, but the wall is way too high. Why did I get myself into this scenario again?

"Take the half broken ladder, maybe this way you can meet me halfway." He suggests, having scanned all the objects in our proximity.

It works, somewhat. _Somewhat_. I jump from the ladder, having it wobbly placed on top of the container. It slides away as soon as I use my weight on it, but Connor catches me before I can land back in the mess. His hand is warm and firm, pulling me all the way up and placing me closely to himself, steadying me with his other hand around my back. There is more than enough space on the roof, but he hesitates for a fleeting moment before pushing himself away again.

The midday sun warms my clothing, there is a significant difference in the weather between day and night time. The next painting is an open palm, holding a chain. The blue color running down the arm, no doubt representing thirium. At least we can be completely sure now that we're really heading where we wanting to.

I didn't expect for the goose chase to take this long. How many precautions are needed to shake unwanted visitors? Or are they testing the androids themselves about their dedication to locate the safe heaven? Something about this whole thing doesn't sit well with me.

At some point in our search I start humming. "313" His head shoots towards me, but I don't notice.

"248" I sing the lovely numbers, voice barely leaving my mouth. They rhyme gently - Ding, Dang, Dong.

"317" Like a pings from a retro console, lulling a gentle wave, first high, then low, then a bit higher again.

"fifty one" A nice closure to the sweet melody. That's his name, his real identification, not Connor, not RK800. People rather learn names than numbers, it's not the same with me. I let the sound glide over the tip of my tongue as I repeat it all over again and again. An ear worm planted into my brain which stubbornly refuses to leave me.

"What are you doing?" He seems unnerved, increasing his pace, but stopping before he actually gets too far. It's like he's torn between wanting to listen to the melody and continuing searching for clues on the painted graffiti walls.

"The three would be red. The one would be yellow. The two, the four and the eight would be blue, all of them even and gentle." I'm messing with him.

"The seven?" He reluctantly asks. "Which color would be the seven?" He pulls out the coin and almost forcefully propels it between his palms, way faster than the first time I've seen him doing it.

"You tell me." My smirk is diabolic. He ponders, stopping in his tracks. I can tell he tries to find the next picture on the wall, tries to concentrate on the task at hand, but the yellow circling light on his LED reveals the failure. Incredible how such small things can actually upset the poor robot.

"White, just white." He settles on a colour and with the decision his LED switches back to blue. "Alright, then the five will be black." I giggle. It's so fun teasing him. He turns to me accusingly, but then the corner of his mouth pulls up and a beautiful line of numbers spread in front of my vision, all coloured, all his. He just created that for me, like a present and has send it to my glasses for me to see. I stretch out a hand, but it goes through the projection hitting only air. "Your numbers are beautiful Connor." He turns around and swiftly walks on, determinedly searching for the next puzzle piece.

Just as I started to suspect that we're just running in circles, reaching no concrete destination, the last picture redirects us to a large open space.

Well, I expected quite many places, but not this.

The 'MGM Building' once a four star hotel, luxuriously tall and vast, luring in the rich people with pools, casinos, wedding planning and the like. Now stands abandoned and dark, surrounded by uplifted highways on all sides. If you ask me it was a completely stupid idea to build a hotel directly adjacent to the noisy facilities, no wonder they went out of business a decade ago.

So, this is the spot where the deviants are hiding? Ok, not the worst choice. It totally makes sense to use the countless comfortable rooms, the conference halls and the even some of the abandoned entertainment devices. Surely better than to hide in sewers. Who would think them to be bold enough to occupy a private property in the heart of the city? Without a warrant, not even the police can casually stroll in there.

"Let's go in and say hi." I casually climb the knee high fence and make my way to the front entrance.

"I have a bad feeling." He says monotonically, not at all fitting the said content or the dark voice.

"A bad feeling? You were the one who was eager finding this place. You should get your programmed checked, might be a glitch." I mock him playfully, winking at him as he as well hops the thing and follows me. The large front door is open, not a soul around, no noise to be heard.

We trail the white marks, there are no more squares or pictures, but concrete arrows, leading us purposely deeper into the building. I don't trust this place, it's too quiet. Where are all the deviants, there surely must be more than a handful of them. Are they quietly staying in their corners watching us right now? Are they hiding, waiting disabled in their maintenance state?

There is a large room, directly connected to the hall we're walking through, in the middle a small thin tree sprouting but carrying no leaves. Presumably serving as a restaurant, the people must have come here to eat for breakfast. The sun shines through the broken up glasses on the ceiling, the vegetation had an easy way through. There are black vines covering the table and the muddled window and the dust in the air render every ray of light to a graspable form, separately illuminating individual lost objects.

"It's beautiful here, don't you think?"

"I would estimate the appearance as broken and rundown, but I'm not quite qualified to determine the value of beauty, since it's highly dependent on personal preferences."

"How about yes, it's striking?"

"Yes, it's striking." I laugh heartily. Although it's not his real opinion, I just enjoy bending his answers.

Mold, broken up piles, puddles of water and not quite melted snow everywhere you can lay your eyes upon. It's fun to explore this abandoned building with him, although I can't quite shake the constant feeling of unease. There is furniture, covered in plastic, even a piano beautifully placed in the center of the countless halls.

"Connor stop!" He obeys, halting his feet above ground.

Although I don't outright see the reason why I wouldn't want him to proceed. My eyes scanning the next long hall we were about to take in search for clues. I pull him back to me and ignore the questioning gaze. Good thing I watched quite many horror movies, so my survival inventions are top notch filed down. Taking a loose brick I throw it into the corridor, it blusters happily across the piles, bouncing a few times and finally coming to halt.

Nothing happens.

"You're aware that you just alarmed anyone in here to our presence?" But before he can attempt a second time to cross the hall, I pause him again. I must be paranoid, what's just wrong with me?

"Better safe than sorry." Sliding down the backpack from my shoulders and rummaging hastily inside. It's a nightmare to find anything if you're searching for something, there are countless equipment, plasters, a pepper spray, even a goddamn cat toy - for an occasional feline which might come your way. The funny thing is, the toy was the one I was searching for.

It's an advanced mechanical thing, a small round ball furred out on the outside, but containing quite cleverly designed software. Communicating with a satellite from the manufacturer company, it's capable of processing its exact location and the layout of its surroundings to determine which way to take to flee from the clawed friend. One could even connect with it through wifi and redirect its route manually.

I discover Connor eyeing the small thing with glinting interest. It's not a toy for androids, but I can clearly imagine him playing with the thing, giggling on the stupid image. Connor the cat, surely some fake cat ears would look lovely on him. "Are you trying to lure out cats? Although I like cats, that's not what we came here for." I'm not gonna start that debate again.

"Sorry Connor, but call it womanly intuition." I roll the thing down the cursed corridor, watching it intently as it blinks and jerks, bumps and beeps. This is the moment I notice it, the thing that has put me off. Emanating a bad feeling which you can't quite grasp, but nudging you on a subconscious level. The corridor is too clean.

No trash, no vegetation, no ripped carpet, nothing but tiles and emptiness. A second after the realization, through some various holes in the walls, countless riffle bullets with automatic target detection, blow the innocent cheerful thing into pieces. The beeping voice dies down in a pitiful, decaying voice, fur ripped open and the electronic core laid bare. Even the most vicious cats wouldn't be able to rip the thing apart, it's build quite sturdily.

Connor catches my body in a swift embrace pulling me out of view and away from the corridor, only a few moments after a loud explosion sends the dust flying in a blast wave.

"The electronic signal connected with a satellite, must have triggered the trap." He concludes, a few moments after the worst of the noise dies down.

I'm just fucking shocked, not quite believing that this just actually happened. Not even wanting to imagine what would have been left of us, of Connor - should we have walked right through. We don't get a breather, already hearing clear, hard footsteps, walking deliberately down the floor in our direction.

A military android - wearing brown pants, heavy black boots, arms spiked with countless metallic dots - most likely used to be connected to something _bigger_. I've never encountered one of those myself, only having seen sparse documentation and pictures while studying all the countless models. They're strictly classified and no civilian, even those like me, outsourcing the distribution and programming of mods and features, could count themselves lucky to get their hands upon some reliable information about them. How do I know that's a military type android? Well, even if the clear letters 'PROPERTY OF U.S. ARMY' written directly on his skin, doesn't give it away. His appearance sure does.

The android is a hulk of man, bulky and heavy muscles across his biceps and on his bare chest. The artificial skin on his torso irreparably destroyed, laying bare the molded white structure - even that is designed in a shape resembling abs. The bald scalp seems to be specifically designed for the sear purpose of intimidation. His eyes are just dark, he's not even looking at us while making his way deliberately, steady towards us. "Oh shit." I'm too stunned to move a muscle, to stunned to hinder my android from peeling away, to stunned to stop him from taking a step directly towards this killer machine.

"Connor?" I fiep into the room. Does he know what he's doing? This sweet little puppy of an android facing this monster all by himself, without a shred of hesitation, without a spark of fear.

"I will be alright, don't worry." I'm not believing him a bit. This creature is a good few heads taller than Connor, the broad hands and shoulders will squash him like a tin can should he land a proper grip. "Even if I don't look as much, I'm the most advanced prototype CyberLife ever created." And he smiles confidently. The thing - halts in his stride.

I don't know how to help him, beside staying out of their way and not letting myself be caught and used as leverage against him.

The fight starts swiftly, there isn't much talk, no preposterous story for the deviant to share. Just blank carnal fight for survival. Connor dodges the kick, rolls under the blow, sweeps in and lands a hit directly into its knee pits, aiming for the parts of his body where the hard mechanics connect. Surprisingly enough the impact brings the deviant down to his knees, its grasp only a thin thread away from catching Connor on his clothes.

I gasp out a cry, as the deviants actually lands a direct hit on his face, sending him flying a good few feet back. The spot where the fist connected, momentarily gives away the synthetic skin and disappears under the white plastic. Connor rolls away from its feet, hitting the ground instead of his head, grabbing a chair to his left and smashing it across its body. The thing doesn't even budge, the wood could have been made out of styrofoam for as much as it cares. I pull my hands up, covering my mouth in sorrow, helplessly watching on as Connor manages to regain his footing. I wish we had a gun or something, we can count ourselves lucky that deviant doesn't carry one.

I watch on as Connor backs off, hitting the counter of a table, hand searching for something - anything that could help him getting the upper hand while he never leaves the deviant out of his eyes. He finds a bottle, grasps it firmly and breaks it on the corner of the wood, splintering it into a sharp weapon. He dodges an overhead hit, turns his back running and climbs on top of another table, leveling himself to his opponent height. The deviant charges him, each impact of his foot a palpable wave I can feel through the floor under my feet. Just as it was about to throw the table around along with Connor on top, he jumps against him, the broken bottle aimed at its face.

It's astounding to watch him fight on the first row seats, the incredible reflexes, the precise strikes and movements, the perfectly timed dodges. My hearts beats intact with each hit. Certainly he just presents himself in a completely new light, I get quite the feeling he wouldn't have any troubles getting rid of a whole squad all by himself. Isn't it a terrible waist for him to end up destroyed on a highway, a stupid yellow car ending this masterpiece of an android? I wonder how he didn't just dodge those incoming cars? Those deviants he was chasing, presumably made it just fine across. I haven't seen or heard of any other damaged androids that day. Was he distracted with something? But androids don't get distracted, not as much as I currently was.

The fight ends with a loud crack, a long kick to the head, sends the robot with a dull thud to the floor. His led still flickering in a red alarming motion, then just dies down to grey. Connor takes a few steps back, his breath even, face composed in complete neutrality. Then glancing towards me and smiles smugly, like - see, didn't I tell you that I'm simply awesome?

I make my way carefully towards him, taking a big circle around the body separating us, absolutely expecting for the thing to start suddenly moving. So the fucking Traci really has send us towards a trap? Oh, I can really see her appreciation. "I thought it's impossible to cheat the probing of an androids memory!"

"I wasn't probing. And since she wasn't damaged, she could control exactly what to show me. I must admit, I've underestimated the deviants. They must have made this trap to avoid exposing the real location in the circumstance of being compromised."

"This one is damaged now, you should probe his." But as he was about to reach down to the presumably knocked out deviant, it suddenly jumps to his feet, pushing Connor directly into me and sets of running. I don't feel the impact, since Connor maneuvered himself facing me, always managing to catch me in an protective embrace. But we don't have the time right now to concentrate on romance.

"Go! Don't let him get away!" Pushing myself out of his arms, insisting on the unsure expression. God knows what this - thing - might engender, now that we roused it from its hiding place. He nods shortly and sets of running. I follow him as swift as I can, but there is no keeping up with an android. I do it mostly out of precaution, since you can't be quite sure that they're no more aggressive robots lurking in the building, or even more traps lying in wait. It sure as hell will be safer to wait outside in the sunshine.

I sit on the next best wall I can limb upon and relaxedly watch the blue dot moving across the virtual map. I can't tell where the deviant is, only having Connors location as my sole orientation. It's incredible how fast he is, no human would be able to keep the pace without ever stopping, without muscles getting sore, or the need to catch breath.

The deviant is a clever one, always taking the tiniest alleyways, they're usually packed with trash and obstacles he surely uses to get rid of his pursuer. I have the perfect overview from the aerial perspective, but I can only guess about the details. My lips stretch into a smirk and I open the communication line. "We got him Connor! He's running directly into a dead end."

"Thanks, good to know." His voice isn't even laboured.

With delight I watch how the blue dot approaches the end of the street. I expect him to stop and linger there, most likely to engage in a second fight. But to my surprise it never ceases moving, going right through the mapped building wall and back to the main street. How?

„Where is he running to?" There is no reply, the channel is dead, although his dot picks up speed. "Connor?" I know he's busy, I know I shouldn't bug him, any human would reply – not NOW woman! But I just have to know what's going on.

"I've estimated a high probability that it tries to get to the Sunday market. As soon as it reaches the crowd, it will be able to disappear using the panicking masses to his advantage." Oh I'm sure there will be quite a spectacle should normal people be confronted unprepared with this particular kind of a deviant.

"Try to hack into something and stop him." I suggest.

"I'm sorry, but I can't calculate the best route to take in my pursuit and simultaneously attempt to hack into public devices." Gosh, men, what's such a big fuss about doing multiple things at the same time, I will never get it.

Pulling out my laptop, which now I'm more than glad to have heaved around, I connect it directly to my glasses and through them with Connor. It's a completely different thing to have only wireless communication and sensory systems affiliated, instead the direct link through cables. I won't be able to influence him and he won't get disturbed by my tampering, although he surely has noticed the connection.

I turn on the hacking gadget - I admittedly didn't write myself. One should never use foreign hacking programs, they might do more harm then you anticipate, since you can't ever tell about hidden espionage subprotocols or terrible Easter-eggs. Before he can ask me what this is all about, I've got everything up and running.

"Just send me the serial number of the next best traffic lights you can see. I will hack in around five seconds after and steer the suddenly red lights to your advantage." I don't see him ever catching up to the deviant otherwise. They're both androids, it's not like the other one will tire any sooner than Connor.

"Alright, it seems like you can actually be useful." This cheeky bastard, why do I even smile on the praise?

As soon as I get the numbers, I redirect them with a single click to the program. It's ridiculous how unprotected such important devices as traffic regulations are. Anyone could try to switch the lights and cause accidents, although the nearby drones would track down the source and register a picture of the villain in no time, with a little bit of sleight one could play quite a havoc.

"I will try to redirect him towards the west. You should be able to corner him at the industrial side. There won't be any buildings for him to hide or any people to interfere." Those military models surely are as well able to calculate the optimal escape route and in the heat of passion, it surely will automatically choose the streets which won't involve crossing red lights and risk being destroyed by the chaotic traffic. At least I hope I won't have to relive the scenario on the highway, they're deviants – they surely must prioritize they safety.

"Sounds like a plan."

I block the lights to the Michigan Ave – another main street leading right towards the center of the shopping mile and instead of letting them get further away from my location, I decide to lead them along the Cass Ave, till they reach the Howard St. - It's one of the very few possibilities allowing people to cross the John C. Lodge Freeway and the best street to take to reach directly the vastly abandoned side of downtown.

That's the critical moment, should the deviant choose to run forward, ignoring the red light, he will reach a plethora of building and hiding places. Even on Sunday there will be more than enough people strolling around to stir quite the attention.

Praying with all my mind, I watch Connors dot moving along the map, counting down the seconds they need to run along the street. Rooting vehemently for my android to succeed in his mission, although I don't quite know what to do about the desired result. Strictly monitoring the flow of the hacking program and controlling an increasing number of traffic lights, I use up all of my concentration capabilities.

Out of my peripheral vision I watch Connor fork right, exactly as we planned and I breathe out a sigh of relief. They location is not all too far from here since they made a half circle in their pursuit. I could reach them in about fifteen minutes. Since I hardly can type on my laptop and run, I cornered all the afoot tracks to a dead halt. The traffic jams will surely mile around the corners by the time they reach the venue, I hope so bad this is all not in vain.

I take the Michigan Ave to the west then head down south and try to predict the approximate location they will be in, accounting the perceptible difference of our speeds. Dreadfully eyeing the 'Detroit Police Department' Building, which is never completely abandoned, not even on weekends, I always feel uncomfortable as soon as I see the uniformed guys lurking around. Even when I didn't do anything wrong, like kidnapping androids, breaking into private properties, hacking traffic or the like. No sooner than thought a few police men shoot through the doors and run directly towards me, my heart gripping in sudden surprise I just do my best to unsuspiciously keep on walking.

My black attire, the hoodie, the few wires sticking out through the zipper of my backpack and my ridiculous attempt to look down towards my feet – all the perfect image of innocence.

They storm right past me and to they parked cars, barking order to each other and slamming the car doors, make quite the impression as if they're too busy to care about me. Oh right, the traffic chaos. Suppressing a burst of laughter, I keep going. It wasn't me who caused the incident, nope. And it's absolutely not like they just ignored the villain who stood right in front of their headquarters. Good thing I just abandoned my location and severed the connection, I'm sure they're heading right there right now.

It catches me by surprise, as I stand on the middle of the Porter St. bridge. Just a few miles down, I can see them clearly across the vast freeway. I wouldn't have looked if not for the sudden huff from our still stable communication line. Connor got him!

Checking first thing they location, to my surprise I discovered them on the opposite bridge. There are two routes allowing people to get across, it's out of hearing range, but definitely close enough see another person waving over.

The deviant made a mistake, just one short moment lost as he stumbled into a passerby, that's all it took for Connor to catch up.

The most astounding fact is, this military deviant doesn't even try to fight anymore. It just wants to flee, it rather runs away from Connor instead of facing him! It should have taken another go on the fight, even in its already damaged state. Then this way it gets overpowered quickly, body hitting full force the concrete, arms getting dislocated. Connor shows no mercy. Now it's too late, now it won't even be able to defend itself.

A hit into its face, hard like a trainwreck – I don't see the sparks, the peeled of metal, but I hear the impact a few ungraspable seconds afterwards. The deviant tries to wriggle free, but his arms refuse moving, feet cleanly locked – and then Connor hesitates. He must have said something. I want to know what's going on, want to know what he's saying, what made him pause, or if he finally found out the real location of Jericho. I try to reestablish our communication line, to listen in, but to my surprise and dismay he just _blocks_ it.

I could pull out the laptop, I could circumvent any of his resistance, even from afar. But it would take time, it would increase the risk of the deviant escaping or even damaging him. I can't do nothing but just stand there and watch them.

Good thing the police just send they last remaining forces into the opposite direction, it will take a bit till they get a few hands free to investigate two fighting androids. The traffic mess I made through half town will surely keep them occupied for the time being.

I grip my hands into the railing and my mouth falls open in shock. The slightly halted movement just – snaps. And Connor beats the shit out of the android, a hit, a hit, a hit, again a cracking, violent, destroying hit. Fucking hell! He doesn't stop, does he! "Connor! You will destroy him!" I cry out, using my whole voice and rendered surprised about how loud I can actually be, I've never tried to shout this loudly ever before, I never had the reason to. His fist freezes in the air and he glances up, I don't see his eyes or his expression from here, but I just can tell that he watches me.

Never leaving my eyes, he slowly eases his fist up, fingers which were tightly shut, stretching calmly out and forming a palm. Connor doesn't let go of the roughed up android, just lays his hand on the side of its head. A few, short moments, where I just can guess around - they're still must be talking, saying something most likely terrible, maybe meaningful, maybe they even made up?

All my venturing comes to a halt as instead of releasing the captured machine, Connor snaps his head. The movement is swift and ruthless, like pulling the plug of a computer, like squashing an insect. He's not at all the gentle, cute man I've so far known.

"He's a frigging terminator." I gasp out almost inaudibly, watching as he heaves the deviant up, holding his weight on one arm. The other doesn't struggle anymore, it won't ever move again. The android is dead. And I feel a shower running down my back, as he doesn't mind the destroyed robot, rendered to nothing more but an object, a pile of metal, as he throws him around the railing and down the bridge.

My eyes follow the falling body, getting unceremoniously hit by an unmanned truck and smashed into pieces, thrown from one car to the next, till they land on the side of the road. I'm vividly, horribly reminded of the day I've found Connor himself. "Why did he do that?" I ask no one in particular, addressing the question mostly to myself. Am I really aware what I've gotten myself into?

Connor only fixes his tie, jerks his shoulders to readjust his jacket, until everything shifts back into place and promptly reenables our communication system. "I've dealt with the threat. I will meet you in front of the trade school in the middle." The line dies down before I can reply, I don't even know what to reply having witnessed this – something. My legs feel leaden and throat dry.

He was kinda hot.

I shake my head violently on the completely inappropriate thought. I should feel scared, threatened even. I should run back home and check, double check, triple check all my programming adjustments to ensure _my own_ security. But I just take a shaky breath and make my way over to the monstrous android.

"Are you ok? Are you injured?" I whirl him around and circle his body, sceptically examining his blemished and perfect appearance. How does he do that? He just ran around half the town and fought pretty fiercely, still he looks like he just freshly came out of the wrapping.

"My system status is stable." He replies indifferently, but the he can't hide the fact that his LED blinked shortly yellow.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I destroyed the deviant?" He traps me, stopping my fervent fidgeting and tugging on his clothes, by firmly placing his palms on both of my shoulders.

"Did you learn anything useful?"

"No."

"It might have been cleverer to capture and interrogate him, don't you think?"

"Cleverer yes, but the involved risk was intolerable."

"Don't tell me he was too dangerous? You've dealt with him just fine, or did it just seem to me like you had the situation under control? I couldn't listen in, since you blocked our communication!" I'm somewhat angry.

"You seem more upset that I didn't pick up your call, than I've just destroyed the suspect."

"Damn yes I am! I was worried about you!" I grab his jacket, glaring into his eyes, ignoring the intensity as he wrinkles the clothing on my shoulders.

"You seem not to care about the other android. Why do you value _my_ safety then?" Is he reprimanding me for not caring about the deviants? Is he upset about my sole attention on his well being? Is he curious why I'm so devoted to especially him? What is he getting at?

"You had a reason to destroy him, didn't you?" Instead of answering, I rather ask pragmatically.

"Yes. A very urgent one."

"So that's settles it." I let go of his clothes and gently pet his wrists. His hands persistently stay on my shoulders.

"Just like that?" He finally seems to notice his harsh grip and evens the wrinkles of my coat.

"If you're so eager to tell me about it, just do it Connor!"

"I don't want you to be scared of me." His eyes are a world of expressions, not fitting an android, not fitting a machine.

"Do I look scared?"

"No. No you're not and that doesn't make sense." I know that I'm strange, if he knew how much, he should plan getting the fuck out of my control instead of being concerned about my feelings.

"I was shocked at first, if that does make you feel better." I certainly thought it wasn't considerate to throw someone ... something down towards moving cars and risk causing an accident. Good thing, this particular freeway is only for unmanned vehicles. Connor must have known, right?

"Are you trusting everyone as blindly? If so, I must advise you..."

"Nope, just you." I interrupt his indoctrination. It's endearing how such a simple reply can render him speechless. "Come on, lets get going or the police will catch up. I'm sure your little brawl didn't go unreported."

'Corktown' a really lovely name to call out this particular spot of the city. Just a few yards away from the shopping mile lies one of the worse slums. Surrounded by the interstate 75, and the M10 highway, it drastically decayed in the recent years. The constant noise, the industrial side in the west, even the train station nearby, pummeled the value of the housing facilities and only the most unfortunate remained living there.

It's hard to get anything to eat on a weekend, stores are closed, streets mostly desolated. In our chase we ended up in a part of town where you won't get any nice food in a mile radius. My stomach rumbles loudly in protest, too much exercise, not enough protein.

"We should find some nutrition for you." He scrolls through the various food locations registered on the official map online, but having no luck. Instead of browsing the internet my nose already catches on a tasty smell.

Chicken _feed_. In stark neon lights under the bridge of the Detroit highway. The shadows cast by the concrete around it, the countless destroyed cars, littered cans, the puddles from last night rain, create a terrible, lonely atmosphere. Smoked pulled pork, smoked ribs, hot dogs and burgers - your every day fast food. Shady hooded figures, leaning against the tall tables, not looking up once as they gulp down the fat stuff. I use the glasses functionality to zoom in and read the sign on the back of the truck 'Sanitation Rating C60', the latest hygiene license expired about a half year ago. Right under it a proud marker 'Our food is prepared by a human' - oh well, what could possibly go wrong.

I make my way over to the guy with the cap, who has his back turned and works on the grill. Connor catches my arm mid stride. "I don't want to alarm you, but the owner of this place - this Kayes Gary, has several criminal records. Including the breach of hygiene regulations. Give me a minute, I will find something else."

I pat his hand and chuckle. "It was you who insisted coming to this place, instead of hanging around comfortably in my apartment watching romance shows, now lets get it over with. I don't feel like searching half town for something edible and we're here already." Reluctantly he lets go of my jacket and follows along. If not for those illegal food stands, people like me would die of hunger.

"A hot dog please." I order without hesitation. Without turning around he pulls the raw sausage from a plastic bag and throws it onto the grill. There is a ice hockey game running on one of the monitors, the typical mainstream music playing in the radio. 'Trap, trap, trap, trap' - Yep, one word only, people love it. The stupider, the better.

Just as he was about to take my payment, the five dollar note I already have prepared in my hand, he glances up to my android companion and his eyes widen in surprise. "Oh you're here again." Addressing Connor. "I thought you follow my pal - the Lieutenant around, didn't know DPD works even on weekends." Questioning each other we exchange glances with Connor.

I answer for him. "He was never here before, or were you Connor?" He shrugs his shoulders and scrutinizingly analyses the man for further clues.

"He surely was, just yesterday! Oh. My bad, it must have been another model who looks just like him. Never mind, girl." Handing me over the large fat thing, dripping with oil and mustard, as I wave Connor over to the next best table.

What a coincidence that his doppelganger was here of all places, were they here investigating something? Taking down this illegal food truck must surely not be on their list of priorities. Before I can take my first bite, I'm interrupted. "Your meal contains 0.9 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level. You shouldn't eat that."

Pouting about the firm hand he places on my arm, stopping me while I have my mouth already open and hanging. "But I like hot cats." And I've paid for it.

"Hot dogs." He corrects me, slightly shaking his head, wondering if I've just misspoken.

"I like cats better." He doesn't reply, but his irritated face is hilarious. A confused android is a lovely android.

"I was wondering, what is your favourite color?" He can't be serious. He asks the most stupid question of time in a tone that makes you believe its some sort of super important and substantial information.

"Why do you even bother asking me?"

"I concluded that it would help progressing successfully in the investigation by establishing a friendly relationship." Is he still concerned about the incident earlier?

"You don't have to try that hard. I'm already helping you, aint I?"

"Still, would you mind answering me."

"Alright, yellow." I can see by the expression on his face, that just stating the fact isn't enough for him to be satisfied. Ok, let's entertain this ridiculous android a bit. "My room was yellow once, no matter how horrible my day was, every time I entered it brightened my mood."

"Strange, usually people prefer colors they associate with strong emotional bonds. Your explanation seems quite - casual to me." Is he making a psychological profile about me or what? I should have known better, good thing I didn't mention the yellow shirt a favorite anime character of mine used to wear. Don't want to imagine his stupid smug upon hearing that one. Grunting no response I devote myself back to my food.

"Why did you save me at the highway?" Nope, not even five minutes of silence. I don't remember speaking as much in a month as I've did in these two days.

"Ohm, I didn't even know at first that you were alive. I just stole the evidence, since technicians could have replayed your last memory and figured out the plate number of the car which destroyed you." Right, I still haven't hacked into the car companies system, I should get to it first thing when we come back home.

"Oh." He looks down dejected. Every time he does that there is an inexplicable urge in me to hug him.

"Why do you think Hank and the other RK800 were here yesterday?" The silence is short lived once again. Does he ever stop asking questions?

"Hmm, it surely sounded as if the lieutenant is a regular here. Beats me, the hot dog is disgusting." And surely does exactly nothing to maintain my figure, but a girl has to eat, right?

"Maybe you're right. Maybe they did just spend their lunch here." He still seems not quite convinced. But the police station is also not all too far from here, I'm sure there is nothing more to it.


	9. Chapter 2

I'm not even sure what I was doing. Tentatively creeping towards the android who obliviously is resting on the couch. Resting, standby, doing maintenance while having his eyes closed, whatever. My heart beating harder in my chest with every step. In the dim light of the conveniently placed nightstand lamp he manages to look even more beautiful. Who ever made this model knew what the hell they were doing.

Kneeling right in front of the couch and not really wanting him to notice my presence I just feel content with watching him like that. His face relaxed, chest evenly rising and falling, the LED in steady blue light, maybe it's just my imagination but it seems dimmer than usual.

If I wouldn't know better I could fall for the illusion that he's indeed human, but honesty, I'm glad that he's not. Otherwise I would never get the chance to be this close to him, never have so much fun and action in my life since meeting him, never would be so … attracted to him. And before I knew what I was doing, my hand traced his arm before I could stop it. Freezing right before the exposed skin of his wrist I catch myself, my eyes shooting up to his face expecting him to stare right back at me. But no, he surprisingly remains idle.

Dare I? I definitely do. Like the soft touch of a feather my fingertips grace the skin of his hand. Although I'm quite skilled in understanding the connections and labyrinths of code, threads and processes, the hardware inside those machines is quite the mystery to me. There is genuine warmth beneath this synthetical skin. What could possibly generate it so … authentically. It's not like your average computer only collecting heat on those hardware parts which use up the most memory and leaving others cold and empty.

I'm convincing myself that I'm just investigating the machinery, while my trembling fingers intervene themselves with his. Tracing the fine lines of his palms, I try to remember which meaning the humans back in the 20h century prescribed to some of those. They claimed the lines describe the playout of our whole life, the points where and when we will come across our love and our nemesis. When we might get sick, how rich one will be and inevitably the time of our death. All ridiculous bullshit of course, every line forms by the way we're using our hands. Since everyone has different habits and professions, it's tempting to interpret a whole life story into it. But since this particular palm was actually designed by humans, maybe a freaky engineer - just as myself - actually put some thought into it while creating this android. Absentmindedly I weave my hand with his, fingers laced slightly together. There is no resistance, they fall into each other like a key-lock pair. As my open palm connects with his, I close my eyes and ravish in the feeling. Staying like this for a few heartbeats which transcend up to my fingertips.

Why didn't they bother to create a fingerprint though? Squeezing the tips of his fingers under my long fingernails I play with his hand fondly. Was it overconfidence that no android would commit any crime, so it didn't need any identification, or were they actually afraid to give them any unique characteristic from the very beginning? Were they aware something like deviancy could actually happen and have deliberately left out this almost insignificant trait, while making everything else so ... _perfect_. Some fried synapsis in my brain suddenly wants to carve a mark into this soft puffy fingertip. Wary I look up into his face, nothing changed, although his LED blinks from time to time.

I don't even wonder why he's out for the world to notice what the heck I'm doing to his hand, just thank the universe for this opportunity. Some desperate part in my brain screams at me to stop, that there will be no logical way of talking myself out of this situation if I continue. That this is the very best moment to stand up and walk away like nothing happened. But there is this other, horrible, desperate part that repeats - _do it_ \- in a loop and as pumped with hormones as I'm right now, I feel inclined to follow it.

My lips part in anticipation while my hands tremble so bad I'm not sure If I will miss my face while slowly guiding his hand towards my mouth. Just to be sure I blow softly against his skin, while carefully observing his face for any reaction. Since he doesn't even stir, I lick my lips in anticipation before actually bringing my head down and trace my lips with his fingertips. I'm not sure what I have expected, it feels just as real as touching him with my hands, but my staccato thundering heart is delighted.

Tongue follows, tracing his fingers up to the base and some part of me _wishes_ , he would be awake to feel it. No, no, no, no, what am I doing? In every universe this is just wrong! But, the tongue follow my teeth, scrapping just at the texture. With the newfound level of intimacy, I can almost feel the underlying vibrating engine that works itself through his whole being. My hands holding his assaulted one, knead sensually into the robotic hand. He will wake up, he will wake up, he will wake up, ah fuck it. Ultimately, I bite softly into his fingertip and _finally_ his body jerks. My hazy, careless mind somewhere prompts me to check, to glance up to his face.

The LED blinks faster, but it could simply indicate that his maintenance, or whatever he's doing at night, just reached a peak in its workload. His face is even, eyes closed. I could just continue, maybe … no. NO. For gods sake! Why am I even doing this? Hell, some horrible premonition is softly whispering the _why_. But I just can't handle it, not now. Maybe, most likely in the future. But right now, I just place his arm back to where it was and stand up.

But right before I could steal myself away from the crime scene - "Why did you stop?"

Honestly, right this second my heart cramped so hard in my chest, my blood literally froze in my veins. The only thing I feel myself capable of handling - is running away! Gulping hard and almost choking in the attempt, I turn around to see him perfectly awake and looking up at me, like he was aware _the whole bloody time_. The truth of it not quite settling in my brain, I stammer - maybe just to punish myself - the blank truth. "I feel like a rapist."

I can feel my face going up in flames, while he seems simply confused, opening his mouth to almost form a question, or is it rather a request? I will never know, because he decides otherwise and I'm **way** too flustered to probe.

Back in my room, banging my head into my pillow I can't believe what I've just done out there! And even worse, I just can't believe what I wish to continue to do! Some part of me knows, that I could. There is nothing and no one stopping me, even Connor himself would comply if I order him to. But a horrible, sickening part of me knows, that for the life of me - I just couldn't.

Somehow, I respect him more than I would any real human being. But is it really respect though?


	10. Chapter 3

"You know, it was a strange phenomenon Connor." Only him turning, indicates that he actually heard me through the loud music of my car. I continue barely hearing myself. "Ever wondered how it came to be that humans started to despise androids to this extent?"

I know it wouldn't even take half a minute for him to process the answer, but it was a rhetorical question anyway. I throw a few obvious points into the room "I'm sure, it's heavily researched by CyberLife. There are also tons of articles all over the news. The unemployment, the declining birth rate, the further blurring line between the purity of humanity and cyborgs." I glance towards him while driving, just to make sure he really heard me. Actually, he seems rather interested, the topic must have hit a nerve.

I smile while stretching the anticipation, unintentionally he manages to look like a puppy sometimes. "But didn't you already analyze it for yourself? If you think about it, the argument with the unemployment seems ridiculous, really. The humanity ultimately strives to archive exactly the complete obliteration of any work - what so ever. We strive to live in freedom, without the need to do anything we don't actually want. In the end there should be utopia, where everyone can live in excess and machines are providing us for free."

I hum with the song, it's the best part. Connor doesn't need the time a human would take for those words to sink in, he leans a bit into my direction, wouldn't I know better I might think he's - impatient? I smile again, damn I tend to do that often recently. "The declining birth rate is also a rather bad joke. Just a few decades past everyone was screaming about the overpopulation, the pollution, the inevitable doom of climatic catastrophes, originating in over farming and declining natural habitats for animals and plant life. There it is, on a silver plate, the (un)-natural chance for planet earth to get a breather and everyone sees red because humans are attracted to androids!" Wait, why is my face heating up? Concentrate on the issue at hand girl!

Connor doesn't seem to notice, he looks rather like he wants to say something, but we both know I wouldn't be able to hear him. It's funny how reluctant he seems to simply tune the volume down. I'm not sure what's holding him back, just sure as hell I wouldn't be pleased, but that can't possibly be the reason, right? The music steadies me while driving, lots of people drive themselves, although there are far cheaper, stately subsidized fully automated cars, but we all know how that went the last time I went for it. It's such a hassle to pay attention, to be all times on alert for not accidently killing some random idiot in this chaotic traffic – again I glance at Connor with a smile – the music almost turns the driving into a video game and makes it more endurable.

"People doping in sports, abusing prosthetics, androids as teammates, that debate in itself is beaten to death. I would rather skip it." I don't really hear him, but the question forms so obviously on his lips, I don't really have to. "So, what makes you hate us?" He says and his face is strangely filled with emotion I cannot place. I have to bite my lip to steady my own. The way he phrased it, somehow this superstition which even includes me in it hurts, although I can't blame him for assuming so, he can't possibly know better. I've never hated them, I could never hate _him_. But how could I possibly describe what I actually feel for them without degrading myself completely? Humans are not supposed to feel like this towards machines, ever! It's one of those unwritten rules, you use them, physically, practically, entertainingly, even sexually, but they're not designated to become _real._

"Let's start with the apparent observation – pets." He inclines his head, like he always does when the bottom line of the topic is foreign to him. Again, I find myself glad for my loud most favorite music, it's far easier to talk while not being interrupted, you can form and keep your line of thoughts without having to worry for awkward pauses which might outstretch the conversation into an uncomfortable level. "A cat for example, has far less conversational value than an android. A cat cannot play chess, or watch your favorite drama with you, it doesn't contribute to the household – actually it makes it even messier." He nods and in his eyes, I see the first hint that he can almost see where this conversation is going.

Meanwhile we reached our destination and I turn off the engine, the sudden quite feels almost deafening but every further word sounds even more intimate. "So tell me, why is humanity completely obsessed with cats? Cat videos, cat pictures, cat merchandise everywhere. And why are there protesters almost on every street demanding the destruction of androids? Do you know why some owners, who paid a mind-blowing sum of money for a model, would go as far as even to intentionally damage or abuse them?" This is also the first time I have the chance to grant him my full attention and observe his reactions. His LED blinks in yellow light, like he's still having trouble figuring out the argument at hand. Finally, the blinking comes to a hold and my heart beats faster, it almost hurts, the conclusion he's bound to find out. "No, … why?"

I sigh, is he really making me say it? Some part of me is pretty sure he already knows the answer. It offends me, like pronouncing it out loud would turn _me_ into a bad person. Well, he asked for it. Partly because I feel annoyed, partly because I actually _want_ to do it, I stretch my hand out and gently caress trough his hair while looking deep into his eyes. He immediately freezes. And with freezes, I mean an unnatural stillness, like some wire somewhere in there got fried all of a sudden. I don't let myself get disturbed by his reaction, fully intend to emphasize my action I continue. "When we caress the cat, gently stroking through its fur, slightly scratching behind their ears…." And yes, I actually do this to him and he just watches me with a dead lock into my eyes.

"When we hear them purr in _delight_ and know they actually _enjoy_ our little treat, _feel_ the intention behind the motion…" Damn, why is my heart beating so bad? Calm down, calm down. My anxiety must be quite obvious, because from the corner of my eyes I can see his blue LED blinking, indicating his processor is working on absorbing and translating my reactions. "… there is still, this clear difference, the inviolable gap, between stroking a living being or a stuffed animal, which only uses the same fur in its outer layer." I gulp, knowing the heaviness of my words, and oh …

He jerks away from my hand like I almost burned him. "I, … I un… derstand. … Thank you. This really makes sense." Did he just stutter? My own distress level must be up trough the roof, but he doesn't seem to notice. The stillness all gone like it never was there in the first place. "You're perfectly right, machines don't feel pain. We can only simulate emotions. Even those deviants acting irrationally, all are only errors in their programs! I've sed so myself." Is it just me, or is he speaking faster than usual? His hand fidgeting in his pocket, most likely in search for his coin, his eyes darting everywhere trough the car. Is he avoiding eye contact? No, that cannot be, I can't have possibly hurt his feelings, right?

Almost relieved his eyes settle on the audio player interface of my car. "Your music, you somehow remind me of someone." What the? Did he just change the subject?

But honestly, I'm glad for the chance to escape the horrible atmosphere I've maneuvered myself in, so I go with it. "What? Don't say you know someone else who listens to Korean rock?" We both exit the car at the same time. "No, death metal." And I bark out a laugh - he must be referring to the volume.


	11. Chapter 15

How do you live with constant pain? At some point you get used to it. No matter how terrible it gets you just keep going. It becomes your shadow. You don't even feel it, don't think about it, although it remains there - waiting. All it takes is the slightest nudge for it to resurface.

How does a wounded person, in the middle of an amputation, _without_ anesthetics react when presented with first world problems? Imagine a man screaming on a table, leg torn and bleeding and one walks up to him and asks - how dare you? How can you be so cold blooded about the needs and suffering of your fellow humans? How can you _possibly_ not care about the future of our children? About the safety of our work, or the tears we cry about the loss of our loved ones?

Now imagine that person on the table is you. Well, I just show them the middle finger.

If this world could be as easy, that some alcohol would wash everything gnawing inside you away, I would never stop drinking. Sadly it just never worked for me. I busy myself instead with patching up those countless bleeding wounds. I do it periodically, although I perfectly know that the source, the very core of the problem can never be healed and I'm only fighting the symptoms.

Humming with the song, roaring loudly in my ears, I lie lifelessly on my bed. Hands sprawled against the soft fabric, chest pressed into the engulfing material to help creating the illusion of a hug, I work endlessly the invisible stitches in my soul. My face doesn't display any emotion, there are no tears - after so many years there are mostly none left, although the hurt only grows.

It's a futile struggle, since the reason and the cure lies beyond my own influence. I can ignore it for a while, busy myself with reality and the countless tasks at hand, try to find some joy, or thrust everything aside and _pretend_ that nothing is wrong. But the longer I don't look at the mess inside, the worse it gets and if it breaks through - and eventually it _always_ does - the result is devastating.

I wish I could throw _myself_ away, then at some point you realize you're beyond repair. People do this all the time, with they broken toys, cars, even androids. It's endlessly tiring to pull oneself up and walk through another day. The body seems incredibly heavy, mundane work piling up faster than you can possibly keep up with. I'm so tired, just tired. Tired of keeping this so called - depression - at bay. I wish I could take a vacation from myself, from my thought patterns, from my world views, from my experiences. To gather some strength before returning back into this life, which offers nothing but pain.

Well, now I have something - someone. He's like a sweet promise, a ray of warm sunshine in winter. A complex machine, a soft man, a person whose dialogues never end. Every new gesture or word from him, a breeze of fresh air. He's everything I ever wanted, so funny and cute that I want to spend my whole time with him. He's so intriguing that you let your guard down, become dependable, weak. You feel safe around him and actually _smile_. His existence alone gives you so much that it makes you aware how damaged everything inside you is.

I have a theory. People tend to forget everything they experienced. It's a protection mechanism of sorts which let them forget the impact of the worst things that ever happened to them and are only left with blurry impressions. Instead they focus on creating and collecting sweet memories of they lives. After a while I came to the conclusion that I tend to keep only the bad things happening to me and forget instead the nice ones. Maybe my childhood just started out too badly, so the healthy switch that works perfectly for the most, got broken and is now stuck in the wrong position.

The way I lie is comfortable, the song pleasant and loud, vibrating against my bones and crying for me, since I just can't. The repair process is simple - imagine something nice. Something that would help, something that could help. Even if it will never become true.

The things springing to my mind are not that far away from impossible. His graceful frame and elegant body, his cocky smile and soft voice. He's there, right there beyond the door in the living room. Why not just call him, why not just order him to take your frame into his arms and squeeze? I know for a fact, that just a simple hug could fix a lot in me.

It's not the sexual desire, the kiss, the tension, the action, the laughs or the banter. They are only fuel to the fire consuming me. It's all in the rare occasion when he puts his arms around me and I can just press myself into his chest. I'm lost in the delusion of his scent, the texture of the smooth fabric of his uniform, the gentle beat of his thirium pump. Vivid imagination being my only help in the endless battle, every detail a stitch keeping the flood of pain back. It will rip again eventually again, it always does. But for the time being I patch it all up to the best of my ability.

Why not ask him to rock you in his arms for real, to allow yourself the pleasure of leaning your head against his frame? Why not give in?

I wouldn't be able to stop.

I was broken for too long. Trampled and then ignored, tolerated but shunned. At the end of this procedure you hide the fact that you have depression like an ugly disability you can not fix. It's pointless to address it, if the cure is not even in your hands, in fact it is in _his_. The innocent, gorgeous android - fixated on accomplishing his mission, putting up with your intrusion into his life, although you're nothing but a parasite leaching off from his existence. He's doing a really good job, too good. His presence alone helps.

I would devour him.

I would reduce him to nothing but an object, a man whose only sole purpose is to heal me, to keep me going. I wouldn't want him to ever stop hugging me. I would most definitely delete everything in his memory, so he just stays put and holds me. Only because he's an android, I even have the option to bask in the overwhelming power, to use him till he satisfies all my needs.

I don't want to break him, I like him. It's a good thing he stays away till I fix the worst of it. But exactly on cue, my headphones are ripped of and his velvety voice asks concerned "Is everything alright? You don't seem sleeping and the volume level of your music is even louder than in the car. I want to point out that you might irreparably damage your hearing."

I don't even look up, to this god forsaken android. What does he want now? "Give it back Connor and it would be best if you leave the room till morning." I try not to order him around, although it's tempting.

"I came in since the lights in your room were on, but you weren't replying. It seems to me you might need some assistance." He kneels in front of my bed, scanning my body and finding no obvious indicators explaining my state.

"Isn't it time for you to go into stand by?" A gentle nudge for him to get lost, although I want him to stay. The politer I become, the worse I feel.

"You hadn't had dinner. You sure you're alright? Is your wound still hurting?" He was about to raise his hand and presumable check on the bandage. Clenching the sheets I just keep breathing, harsh puffs squeezing out of my chest and he halts in the motion midair. "I understand, I will leave you. Have a nice evening." The words are the perfect politeness, he leaves without further hesitation and my heart just burns, while I close my eyes and don't even allow myself to trail his movements.

My thoughts are stuck on the memory of his lips, it would be easy to blame that action on all of this. But it was rather the moment he _pretended_ to become deviant. The horrible, helpless feeling, like I would lose a world, the last straw of stability. I wish they would just have killed me.

The stupid android doesn't even realize I'm his worst threat, not the deviants, not humanity, not CyberLife - it's me. I contemplate again to call him back in, it was odd the way he hesitated to leave, the way he looked at me, the brown in his eyes spreading in perfect imitation of affection and shifting to something like hurt on my reaction to his presence.

I can't quite imagine how much he would have cost. It's absolutely beyond any boundaries how intense the effects of his socializing module are. Must be about the small fortune of a Ferrari, that he's able to confuse me to this extent. Or he's really deviant.

Deviant - not a word, but a horrible nasty feeling in my chest. A groan of pain leaves my lips on the memory he shook my hand away and marched right into the masses of self-aware androids. Without a single glance back, he just joined them and left me behind. The pain just flares and I roll my body into a fetus position to gain at least some sort of comfort.

"I will be alright, I will be alright, I will be alright." I repeat gently. I enforce myself with the imagination he's already left me and try to deal with the outcome. Even then, I will keep on existing, even without the slightest hope to ever experience any more short lived moment of contact. It's an aphrodisiac of sorts, the skinship - those are the only moments where I can experience the true absence of pain, the sweetest break where I can just bask in the closeness of our joined existence.

The lack of music makes everything worse, he's placed the headphones just out of my reach. But even if not, my arm feels to heavy to move. There is nothing left to latch my thoughts on, so they spiral to dark regions. Even though I know the songtext by heart, following the words is better than the abyss I trail into. "I'm just a broken machine," I whisper into the silence of the room. "though the record may spin, all my lights have gone dim..." It's funny that a human wrote this song, not an android. Although CyberLife already developed musicians and androids capable of writing whole books.

But the text represents me like nothing else. Humans are the worse version of androids. We're also machines doomed to fail and make mistakes. They're our creation in our own image, just better. They were my hope, my illusion. Now them turning deviant is like watching something pure and innocent walking the same path as us. The emotion driven, violent, selfish behavior. If they become just like humans, what's the point?

I ignored the need to eat and the thirst of my body, but Connor was right, he always is. It would be easier to remain like this, if at least this stupid body would stop bothering me. But the primitive need to go to the toilet I cannot ignore any longer. I will my body to move, although I don't have any strength, practically rolling myself down from the bed and I hear a shuffle.

Freezing in the attempt to stand up I finally glance towards the closed door of my room. Was he there? Was he standing right behind it? All this time?

I don't feel the time when I'm like this, hours are blurring into minutes. There is never enough time to put all the pieces back together. I would rather not concern myself with his decisions, but my ears can't help but catch on the sudden silence. A silence originating in the sudden absence of static. If your hearing is fine enough you can catch on the sound a monitor or television makes while being powered on. The kind of sound which only the flowing electricity makes, and the feng shui fanatics claim is really bad for your psyche if you're exposed to it while sleeping.

My head turns and falls on the only electronic object which might have been responsible. The glasses lying inconspicuously on the night table and facing towards me. There is absolutely nothing indicating when they're powered on but the treacherous sound. Did he watch me?

I spring to my feet and rush to the door, opening it wildly and completely expecting him still leaning against the door frame. But the corridor is empty.

I must be imagining things. I must be going nuts in my craving.

Walking down the few steps into the living room, I discover the android resting on the couch, eyes closed, LED spinning in blue light. The only odd thing, his jacket is scrunched up beneath his back. The last two nights he always placed it perfectly folded on the table, a peculiar notion to preserve his perfect appearance.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm just seeing things. The thing I want most at this moment, is just to walk up to him and kneel in front of his sleeping frame. Putting my head on top of his palm, to just close my eyes and bask in the miniscule contact I imagine to be able to fall asleep like this.

But the way I feel right now is irrational - the self loathing, mixed with pain and desire. It's simply too much, so I just back away and glide down the door as soon as it closes behind me. I successfully reached the bathroom and when I'm like this, it's almost like an achievement of sorts that I made myself move at all, but now the urge is gone, just to mock me.

Sitting on the floor like this grounds me to reality, you can concentrate completely on your own being, while the hurt just doesn't stop. I vividly call for the picture of his eyes, his pleasant voice, he's fierce, unbeatable. Delusionally gentle but strong, smart, a machine with the capacity to hunt and destroy. I like him most when he's ruthless like today, when the sweet package breaks and reveals his true nature. It was with his help the deviants didn't get overwhelmed by the police forces, he took out singlehandedly the majority of them, incapacitating them with precise, calculated movements using exactly the right amount of force to break their bones but not to kill them. All the androids around him seemed like lost children, like a bunch of farmers with pitchforks fighting for their so called rights and freedom.

It's ironic that absolutely no one can stand in his way, he decimates them in a heartbeat. But all it takes for him to fail, is a pathetic hacker with some personal issues.

If I hadn't thrown myself into them, maybe he wouldn't have been shot anyway. Maybe he finally would have come a giant step closer towards accomplishing his mission. I'm sure if not for me, they would have accepted him and lead him right into the heart of Jericho. If I just could have let go, if I just wouldn't be so selfish and scared. Everything is my fault. I should unbind him, let him return to CyberLife or delete his memories. Since this way he neither can concentrate properly on his task, nor truly let go of everything and exist for me only.

But I can't, I just can't. I don't see myself ever moving from this dissatisfying idleness.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" He asks me suddenly through the door, I didn't hear him coming closer. Did he level up his sneaking ability?

"Just ask." I really don't feel like talking right now, but when he uses his voice like that, I have the hardest time ever not to open the door and throw myself into his arms.

"Why do you want me to stay obedient?" He must have analyzed me. It's scary how perfectly he's placing the topic.

"Most humans do, they're afraid of losing control. Scared that androids will eventually annihilate humanity, or being put into capsules and used as a twisted power source, while being forced to live in an synthetic world." People also get scared, because the line of artificial intelligence and us is blurring very every new android model. They can't really tell the difference themselves anymore between a living being and a machine. They have to convince themselves that they're just objects, so they treatment grows increasingly ruthless. We've seen the results first hand today.

"You're referring to the Matrix movie, aren't you?"

"Yep." I wish he would leave the topic on the half attempted joke.

"But you're not afraid." Very perceptive Connor.

"Yes, but I still want you to listen to me. Do everything just as I say." I shouldn't be saying this, but I was always bluntly honest.

"What would you have done if I really had become deviant?" I need him gone, although I also want him to remain right there on the other side of the door and keep talking.

"Nothing. I would have done nothing." Just another wound, just another break in my soul and keep on existing. Although I have to admit I display quite the yandere tendencies, I just lack the dedication to actually do something with it. There is an odd selflessness accompanying my endless selfishness. "Don't concern yourself about my pathetic state Connor. Just keep doing your thing. I will be better tomorrow." Would he be a human with real emotions I would have told him not to feel bad about it.

"Don't worry, I will never become deviant." He promises me. "You have to trust me." He emphases again, and it sounds so very pleasant.

I wonder why he chooses to wait on the other side of the door, instead of keep on pretending with the standby mode? Why he just doesn't come in and whack me till I'm back to normal. It must be one of those requirements to stay at my side, which manipulate his behavior to this extent. It must be.


	12. Chapter 12

I want to be home, back with him. But my fridge looks like a dead mouse starved in there, containing absolutely nothing - no remnants even remotely resembling food, only emptiness and dust. Those are the moments I wish to be an android myself, not having to worry for nourishment and simply go on with my existence. Alas, my stomach rumbles disapprovingly as I hurry past the tasty groceries, sparing them no needless attention and only grabbing prefabricated packages. I could make him cook for me, that's what I'm supposed to be doing with him, instead of running through town researching those crazy machines several days in a row. But since they already produce half finished food, why not take advantage of it? The quality of this stuff improved significantly in the recent decades.

The store is unusually desolated, although I'm not used meeting actual people while shopping, the tangible lack of androids handling mundane tasks creeps across my skin. The very first reason I left him behind. After the recent stunt Marcus pulled across the nation the hostility increased ten fold and I just can't risk him getting caught up in this mess any further.

A single glance out of the window I see the protesters searching desperately for their next victim. 'Androids ruin our country' 'Ban androids' 'Don't leave your child alone with an android' - and the like. They really believe in this bullshit, not even daring to consider that the source of their problems might lie in themselves. With just a little effort and the right specialization anyone could find a job, software developers for example are sold like hot potatoes these days.

It's perfectly normal that the employment shifts away from trivial tasks and requires people to use their brains instead of muscles. Evolution people, evolution, we can't remain in the stone age forever, beating wheels out of stone with brute force.

My attention gets swayed by a small store unit, flying happily towards me, finally have found a target to spill its countless functions upon. The drone peeps a cheery sound in greeting and my frown gets replaced by a smile I just can't suppress.

"Hey cuty, can you help me find the cheapest and most nutritious instant food in this store?" They're nowhere near as smart as proper computers, but it understands my question and promptly beckons me to follow, floating patiently right before the corner of the shelves.

I don't know the brand of the package, containing frozen fish and vegetables - it illuminates in blue light for me to find, but briefly checking the ingredients, price and calories it was exactly what I was asking for. I have the feeling I'm the only human out there basking in the countless possibilities of technology, instead of fearing it. I wouldn't mind living in a completely artificial world, escaping this harsh, cold reality - it's a given that those kind of thoughts are in the far minority.

The blinking lights at its sides, the rotating ears, the sixteen bit sounds they produce make them simply adorable. Analogous to android dogs they dumb, faithful and most notably - useful features just warm my heart. I would never step so low as to resort to infant language, not with babies, neither with animals, least of all with men. But this particular exemplar, swirling happily around me, eagerly showing me every single thing I ask for and even those I didn't, but which turn out as actually good suggestions, just prompts me otherwise.

"Aren't you a good little robot? Yes you are!" I rub its metallic side playfully as though it might feel my endearment and to my delight it beeps in high tune. "Now you're helping customers all by yourself?" It beeps once, as though it would know the universal language - once for yes, twice for no. But before I can test the theory, the playful interaction is stopped by a human employee. "Mam, would you please refrain from touching our equipment?"

Well sure, with all the androids out of the picture they really can't have the last functioning bots broken. I sigh and nod, silently making my way over to the register, ignoring the cute drone still following behind me. Overlooking the weird stare the cashier gives me for playing with the thing, as though I just held a conversation with a toaster about the reason of life and the core of our creation.

Leaving the store I'm immediately confronted with the speech from early this night, they really want to make sure that everyone gets the message.

/ Madam President, public opinion seems to be particularly hostile to the deviants because of their violent behaviour. Can you give us your perspective on that?

\- They have demonstrated that they are menace to society and I have every intention of eliminating them.

Is it true that the androids could hack our IT systems, like nuclear power plants and military bases?

\- All androids working on sensitive sites have been neutralized and all IT systems have been suspended to avoid any risks of hacking. The situation is under control. /

We will see about that, humanity never ceases to underestimate their opponents. How comes I'm right between those sides of this war? Would I be an android the choice would be so easy, although I'm anything but fond of the development of the recent events, there couldn't be any other outcome. Should the deviants protest peacefully, humanity in their irrational fear would eliminate them regardless, at least this way they have a chance to fight back. Looking up to the sky, clouded white with the winter fog, I sigh as my heart aches. The only thing I know for sure - my own side is with him and I will do my worst to keep him safe. Some part of me hopes the androids will win and annihilate humanity, we don't deserve it any better.

In my dream like state I manage to run into the middle of a panicking, frantically shouting mob. "STOP right there! Don't move! Are you human?" Are they serious? Just because I fetch my own groceries they automatically assume I'm an android. Of course I witnessed people ganging up on the poor machines even before the hell broke loose, but never to the extent where they attack normally dressed people. It must be the case, because a lot of androids discarded their LEDs and started reasonably camouflaging themselves.

"Yes, now would you get out of my way?" I just want to push past them, but am greeted with reinforced resistance.

"Not so fast, push up your hoodie and let us see if you have an LED attached to your head!" Multiple scrutinizing gazes boring into my frame, the atmosphere is loaded to the point of bursting, everyone is on short fuse. I'm not as stupid to give them any reason to do exactly that, so I reluctantly pull it down, revealing my short red hair sticking out carelessly in all directions. No android would look like me, although I'm beautiful enough to be suspected. Their marvellous and neatness appearance is the first sign giving them away, there are no fat, old or ugly androids - everyone with imperfections must be now enjoying their piece of mind.

He still grabs my forearm harshly and even demands grumpily to show my ID. Who does he think he is? Although police might enforce a body scan or ensure our identity, there is no way I will bend to the will of self assigned 'justice' vigilantes. I fucking hate it when people touch me, jerking my arm back is exactly what sets him off. He grabs my collar and lifts me a few centimeters up, so my feet no longer touch the floor - quite an accomplishment, since I'm not exactly small. Instead of feeling scared, as he undoubtedly intended, I just snarl a grin - imitating Connor and launch a stupid reply. "Eat a snickers you fatso, you're not yourself when you're hungry." Although I don't have anything sweet in my bag I flay it slightly in front of his face.

I swear his eyes are about to plop out of his head and his face colours red, a deep dark red of - rage. He throws me full force against the asphalt and I roll a good few times through the mud before coming to a halt in front of someone's feet. My groceries scattered all over the place. "You should be polite to your fellow humans girl. If you had cooperated, this wouldn't have happened. Now get going, didn't you hear our president, we shouldn't leave our houses unless absolutely necessary!" Well, at least my audacious reply convinced them. I deeply hope they will run into a real deviant eventually and get shot dead when they provoke a self destructive reaction.

I still take the time to gather everything back into the plastic bag, my mind only concerned about how much longer it now takes to get back home. Thankfully I left him there, although I would have loved to watch him beating the shit out of this stupidly scared cattle, I'm just glad that he's safely tucked away for a change.

Wild music roaring through the street as I turn the corner, scrunching my face as I search for the source, but there aren't any open windows, not in this cold. I really don't need this bullshit right now, only wishing to plum head first into the mattress of my bed after the agonizing incident. To my dismay the bestial sound seems to emanating directly from the house where my apartment is located, promising worsening headaches. Since it's not late enough to call the cops on them and cause I generally tend to avoid any confrontation with humanity, I will have to endure.

Sighing I turn the keys and make my way up the stairs, growing more frustrated as the volume of the music seems to grow louder with each step. Alright, at least they have some taste - instead of the mainstream crap, the pleasant beats of the 80's penetrate the air. Actually, I'm familiar with every single song and the slight annoyance turns into curiosity, who of my neighbours actually has some sense to appreciate the old art? They don't make music like that anymore, everything growing steadily dumb, producing only meaningless texts, designed to be catchy enough to stay in your head and annoy the shit out of you with repeating beats. As I reach my own floor, the inexplicable certainty that some humans are throwing a party is replaced by a sickening distress - the music is actually coming directly from _my own_ apartment.

I almost let the already trampled packages fall to the floor in shock of this realization. Why would there be music? As I left, Connor was strangely silent - even more silent than usual - like there was too much stuff going on for him to process. There is simply no plausible reason for him to throw a frigging party in my absence. Maybe someone broke in, knowing there is an android waiting for them to be found and wanting to cover the fighting noises? Fumbling with my keys they slip through my fingers as more scenarios start spreading in my head, painting a vivid picture of destruction undoubtedly awaiting me. I have to focus my whole attention on the simple task, why in gods name do I have so many keys on the chain?

In the best case scenario the room will be empty and I will have to activate the tracking software to find him, it would be worse if CyberLife's employees are waiting for me on the other side of the door, guns already pointing at my head. I can call myself lucky if they don't shoot through the door as I try to open it. "Fuck, fuck, Connor please be alright." I pray fumbling with the keys, having picked the wrong one in the stress and trying them out one after the other, as though they suddenly grew unfamiliar.

What could possibly go wrong, leaving the android only for an hour and a half by himself? That's what I get for ignoring the bad feeling in my guts.

The lock springs finally open and I have to cover my ears as the roar of the music exceeds any tolerable measures. Eyes tracing the floor leading into the living room, but finding no signs of fight or break in, heart drumming alarmingly against my ribs, I tentatively creep forward. Cautiously I peek around the corner, the room is strangely dim, the shutters pulled halfway down, everything is neatly in place - just like I remember leaving it, maybe just tidier than I'm used to.

His figure is sulked forward, hands on knees, legs spread apart, head directed to the floor, LED pulsing in stark yellow light, occasionally even switching to red. Flood of relief makes my knees go weak, it's incredible how worked up I can get in the matter of minutes. The relief is not long lived as I tentatively make a step forward, showing myself - he doesn't react.

"C..or! Wa...ell. A..ou..do..g?" I scream trough the drum of the relentless music. As he looks up I freeze in my step. His eyes penetrate me accusingly, as if I DID something unforgivable. Alright, I'm later than I promised, but it's not my fault some bastards attacked me on the street, it took me just thirty minutes longer than anticipated and he assured me that it was perfectly alright to be left alone, he seemed even eager! Maybe I underestimated the impact of my own parameters? But still, he's just a machine, he's not supposed to get all emotional about it!?

He just shakes his head, a motion which sends the only loose patch of his hair swaying, a motion which feels to all incredibility so very _human_.

I should walk over and turn the volume down, shake his shoulders till he snaps out of it. But the way he just looks at me, grabs all of my attention and I just can't bring myself to make even a single step forward. I pull my phone out instead and type a message, sending it directly to his brain.

/ Connor, you will get us evicted like this! This is not a car, you can't turn the volume up to this extent! /

He answers, his mouth is moving and he smiles _bitterly_. He looks me in the eyes as if I'm supposed to get it, although he _knows_ better. I can't read lips and my hearing is nowhere near the sensitive sensors of a machine to decipher his voice.

The rattling in my mind can't quite catch up to what's happening, as he pushes up from the chair and slowly makes his way towards me. The music roars loudly up like on cue and my pulse if flooding my veins.

Instead of turning it off, or reply back to my phone, he chooses to push himself into my personal space. Head bending down, searching the proximity of my ear and a cold shiver roots me into immobilization. He whispers so softly and beguilingly against the sensitive skin, not quite touching, but leaving a tangible preview to what he could do with his lips. "I'm analysing the effect of loud music on ones feelings." The words are pragmatic, nothing like the _tone_ he used, hiding something _more_ than the simple straight forward explanation.

Agape I just open and close my mouth like a fish pulled out of water. "Why would you need to do that?" Sure, I tend to do that, especially when my depression is about to devour me. He witnessed my breakdown yesterday, although I tried to close off everything. Letting the noise engulf the pain and drowning the world out, definitely helps in those moments. It would be highly inappropriate for me to cry, or scream myself when the darkness eats one alive. The neighbours would definitely call the ambulance or the police, should one ever break to the point where you can't even control your emotions at this level. So instead I let the music express the aching emptiness. But, Connor can't possibly mean this kind of feelings, he can't actually mean any _own_ feelings, right?

The brown in his eyes is incredible, a world of expressions shifting and turning in the simple color. My heart jams in my chest, because I can't understand what's _wrong_. He doesn't answer my question, but asks one more instead. "Tell me what happened."

His gaze shifts downwards and scans the mud on my clothes. "You were assaulted, am I right? Are you injured?" Why is he even worried about that? Is it only my imagination or did he become more sensitive to my needs lately?

"Just some scared humans, I'm fine." I assure him, ignoring the fact that I had to utter the reply directly to his ear as well, to drown the music. Instead of stepping away, he hugs me. Hands wrapping around my waist, squeezing me into his body. There is absolutely no need to comfort me about this small matter, I don't really care about putting myself into danger, or being offended, disliked or ignored. Now that he's there for me, simply there - there is nothing left that could harm me.

He's _anything_ but a machine and the certainty of it, is supposed to make me feel happy, elated even - that I've stumbled upon such an incredible exemplar. But my stomach always rebels on the thought. He notices my quickening pulse, observes how this time _my_ eyes avoid him to trace downwards. His hands around me tense up.

I can't help it, although he assured me again and again, that the spreading deviancy can't possibly have affected him, that there is no chance for him to go against his creators, to turn violent and unpredictable, to walk away _for real_. I try repeatedly to push the doubt out, which surfaces stubbornly every time I notice him doing something _strange_.

Maybe it's actually too late? Maybe he just doesn't know it? Reluctantly I open my mouth to voice the horrible, gnawing question, as suddenly the noise dies down. He remotely deactivated the stereo, as if he would know what I'm about to ask. As if he would know how uncomfortable this sudden silence makes me and would want to avoid the direction where this conversation is going.

It's really effective of course, only now I actually realize how loud it must have been. My voice is stuck in my throat as I cowardly can't bring myself to gather the courage, not when the comforting background disappeared into nothingness. Instead I ask the next best thing.

"How does it feel being yourself?" He dips his head sideways. "Without the artificial skin I mean."

"It makes people uncomfortable when I deactivate it. So any android prefers avoiding this state." His hands search for the root of his tie, adjusting it slightly and a slight unsure smile stealing itself across his lips.

"I didn't ask you about how others perceive it, I asked how you feel yourself about it?" The very cowardly way of asking the terrible issue gnawing on me.

He gulps, eyes escaping my scrutinizing gaze. "It doesn't feel like anything."

"It's a lie." Oh, how I wish it wouldn't be.

"How are you able to tell? Humans don't possess the necessary equipment to analyse androids. But you always manage to read me. Is something giving me away? I need to note and correct it, if that's the case." He's _rambling_.

"I'm simply too smart for my own good Connor. Now, don't avoid the question. Is it like being _naked_?" I shouldn't have phrased it that way.

"… yes."

"Oh? Would you feel uncomfortable letting me see you completely without it?"

"No, I don't _feel_ uncomfortable."

"Connor." I let the accusation slip into my tone. He really should stop trying to lie as bluntly as that.

"Listen, I don't want to repulse you." The corner of his lips rises up and he's just about to take a step backwards.

"Why would it?" To my own shame, I wouldn't even feel repulsed _riding_ him in his purest state. This is how fast my thoughts slide into the gutter in his close proximity, wondering how intimate it would feel, how it would affect _him_.

"It definitely would destroy the illusion of your feelings you've build up for me." I never was as horribly aware, that he **perfectly** well knows how hard my heart beats for him. But the way he phrased it, it really could mislead one into believing that he cares to receive them.

"Let me be honest with you." I want to be honest about it, although I shouldn't. "Would you be an actual human, I wouldn't spare you even a single thought, not a glance, you wouldn't even exist in my - fantasies."

"I don't understand, what does it mean?"

"It's a horrible truth and maybe I can only voice it, because I know you won't judge me. But I honestly only feel like this… " - attracted, hopelessly devoted, agonizingly needy, craving attention and completely, utterly, emotionally exposed "… explicitly because you're an android."

His LED promptly falls into yellow spinning and to my shock, settles on red – a constant, burning, angry red and he penetrates me with his stare wordlessly. It feels like his eyes are _scanning_ me from inside out, like I've just dared a crime against him. "That doesn't make sense. There is no need to mislead me."

There is no going back now. "I despise humanity – one of the reasons I chose this profession." I place his fingertips on the inside of my wrist, I need him to feel my pulse as I speak, craving for him to believe me, although he can trace my vitals without a direct touch.

"Every time I'm confronted with human men, there is a feeling of _cancer_ spreading in my guts. I can read it in their faces - the smug, self-assured, dirty fantasies. Although mostly harmless, just the way they perceive the world and women is simply repulsive. Deep down they're somewhat indifferent about whole-hearted, unrestricted, all consuming emotions. Although it might shift for a time when they experience short lived periods of love, ultimately they're disinterested in anything but their own needs. Should they happen to be physically unattractive, there is mostly disgusting desperation and all too familiar hopelessness, which is anything but what I'm searching for." What a long speech, this time it's me smiling bitterly upward. And the worst part is, that I'm no different, I'm as well human, a needy, pitiful, selfish being. Only perfectly realizing how incompatible I am with the rest of them.

He frowns, tiling his head and I can't help but catch his face between my palms. "Wouldn't it be for you, I would give up hope. There is a self-consuming fire that cannot be quilt. Something I crave but cannot possibly have, a devotion to completely lose myself in another being, giving up my identity and becoming one entity." As soon as I started talking, it just spills. His LED roaring red and I feel heat rising on the part where our skin connects.

"Androids don't feel emotions. I can't possibly give you what you need." His eyes squinted slightly, irritated and just _something_ I can't quite place.

"You are mine, aren't you?" He doesn't hesitate. "Yes, you've registered yourself as my owner in my program."

"Then I can become yours as well and that is all I _want_." I lean into him. Push my whole body even further into his and his palms drift reluctantly to my hair, patting my head, unsure of how to react to all of this that I just **threw** unfiltered into his face. Any human being would just find an excuse to get away, I completely expect him to find a modest safety protocol to recite and pull out. I wait for it to happen, the seconds just stretch and it is like knifes stabbing my very soul. I know this is absolutely too much for anyone to handle, especially a machine.

But then he just does it, the skin retracting and disappearing under the soft texture beneath, like it would be vacuumed in and hidden under fine pores. Till there is nothing left but him, only clothes hiding the parts of his body I desperately want to trace.

I'm definitely not normal. As I see him as he is, white tissue covering his face and palms, artificial body clearly lining the ridges where his parts connect and allow him the perfect imitation of movement, I feel a wave of reassurance rushing through my veins. He's like a blank canvas, a doll of a man with the capacity to become anything I want him to. There is nothing holding me back from simply pulling him apart, from shaping him in any way I can think up. The skin of my palms crawls with excitement on this vulnerable state of his. It would be so easy.

The white of the alloy is not so much different to the touch as the artificial skin, only smoother. Wrongly described as plastic, the material has quite an array of chemical components I can't possibly name. But it hardly compares to the noxious substances contained in plastic, most likely the primary reason humanity chose this insult. When I dip my fingertips into his flesh it bends easily, willingly giving in to the hesitant touch. He's gorgeous, no matter without or with human skin.

He smiles wholeheartedly, reading the clear admiration glistening in my eyes. Since the very first day I've met him, I've noticed his eagerness for praise. Which I could just take into my hand and use it to bend him to my will, in all the dirty meanings and innuendos out there. But what is it that I utterly want?

There is a clear difference between what I need and what I wish for.

"You're more than a simple vessel for me to fuck and throw into the corner afterwards. We both know I could have erased your memories, have you downloaded juicy sex techniques and not leave the house for the next half year, dirtying every surface of this apartment instead." I finally allow myself to lick my lips, while softly tracing the white surface of his. And he just - smiles against my fingertips, eyes lidding slightly down and the softness of his brown spreading, no doubt imagining the prospect vividly for a moment. His reaction catches me off-guard and I forcibly pull out of his proximity.

My feelings are unhealthy - the way I trap him in his programming, putting an invisible leash around his throat to remain at my side, when I just emotionally collapse on the prospect of losing him, how I want him to remain obedient and become completely mine - yes, definitely unhealthy. And though I allow myself to exploit him emotionally, I won't do the same thing physically. Not to him. Usually humans do exactly the opposite. There is no wonder so many androids developed deviancy, I am no better, I might be even worse than them. In some ways I'm afraid where my dark desperation might lead me towards to.

I grab the discarded bag of groceries and make my way into the kitchen, ears catching the soft ringing sound of his coin as he leisurely throws it between his palms. Although I would love to stare and devour the sight where he's doing this incredible little thing, as though it doesn't cost him any effort, and are actually more than curious if he decided to turn his skin back on, I need the space to gather my whole self control, to keep this _ugly_ craving in check.


	13. Chapter 5

His lips sliding gently over mine, soft and accurate, tracing feathery over the surface. My hands are trembling from sheer restraint not to claw themselves into his clothes. He intensifies the pressure, ravening my whole mouth in his and I moan from satisfaction against his lips. His mouth parts and a warm wet tongue glides over my trembling lips, not quite entering, just tasting, just teasing.

"Connor" I whimper and it sounds pitiful in my ears. I pull back, although everything in my mind and body screams for more. His arms catch me around my waist, push me even closer against his firm body. There is no escape. He kisses my neck, somewhat pleadingly, like he's the one who doesn't want to stop and the touch is searingly hot against my skin. My trembling worsens and I have trouble catching my breath, so completely engulfed in his strong muscles, pressed against his large chest while his tongue assaults the corner of my ears. I hear him breathe, erratic, suppressed huffs escaping his mouth here and there.

The reasoning of my mind clouds with every passing second and my thoughts drift closer to my wishes. I want to feel more, to feel the beating of his thirium pump against my own chest. Want to have his clothes gone, to feel the texture of his synthetic skin against my fingertips, want to crawl my palms into his hair, to pull and stroke and caress without restraint. Wouldn't I know any better, I would assume he's begging, the way his tongue glides over my skin, the way his mouth sucks a vacuum hole around my neck. I shudder as soon as his teeth scrape cunningly over my oversensitive spots and really, wouldn't he hold me as firmly as he does, I would have crumbled to the floor here and then.

Wetness is pooling around my lower region, I can feel it parting its way into the surface and soaking my panties, just from this bit. I'm pathetic. "Connor, I need you to stop." Although what I need is entirely something else. He cups my face into his palms, assertively watching, analyzing my eyes and we both know the terrible truth is written clearly in large fat signs all over my body. He doesn't give in to my pleas, to my whimpers, to my half afforded struggle as his lips capture mine all over again. His tongue, long and slick glides between our lips, slips cunningly into my mouth and he just dots playfully against my own.

That's the moment where I just break. Launching myself against his body, my legs whirling up and around his hips. It catches him off guard as we both almost stumble to the ground. He didn't expect having to carry my whole weight so suddenly, but he adjusts remarkably fast. Pushing us against a nearby wall and not once parting from my lips, he needs only one arm to stabilize my position, the other solidly grabs the back of my hair.

I love the feel of his lips against my own, they're just as impossibly soft as I remember them. The way he always uses his tongue in analyzing blood samples hunted me into my dreams. Now, to sensate the desired touch, the feel of his mouth, his taste, so impossibly close, so _real_ , I can't help myself as to close my eyes and give in completely.

His movements are deliberate, hurried, all consuming, as though he's about to engulf me into his being. Maybe he's too afraid I might pull out once again, should he hesitate even for a moment. It's hilarious, really, I'm the only one yearning for this kind of intimacy, but in the end he's the one initiating it.

It grows steadily wetter, messier. Saliva flowing down my chin as his tongue mercilessly assaults my mouth. I don't care, don't wonder where he got these techniques to kiss like that. My hips needy rubbing against his front, while my arms almost pushing my soul out of my chest, pressing myself closer, just closer, against his deeply breathing chest. There and then - some sort of roar - an animalistic guttural sound _vibrates_ against my body and I literally feel him growing against me. Holy seven hells!

"Connor! Connor!" I struggle for real, my mind too messed up to know why. I just need him to stop there for a second.

He stops, but only to answer. "I won't stop, unless you really want me to." The trembling of my body intensifies even more, my heart drumming rapidly against mine and his chest, my face burns from excitement and guilt.

Only one large question preoccupying my mind. "Why? You don't have to just because I want it! Please don't do this for my sake."

Concerned his hand cups gently my face, while the other is still holding my body effortlessly against him. Only now I notice a tear sliding down my cheeks as he rubs his thumb cautiously across my skin and picks it up. I expect him to ask me why I insist for him to stop, expect him to reason that this is just nothing – a build in program into all the androids - he has not trouble to complete. But for god's sake, I don't expect him to tell me the thing he so casually says, as if it would be _nothing_. "But I want to experience you."

Urgh, this is too much. How in gods name is a girl supposed to resist that?

I simply don't, kissing him back all over again. Hungrily devouring his tongue, his mouth, eagerly leaning into each single and every fevered touch. He moves against me, rhythmically pressing himself through our clothes and already this bit drives me wild in primitive need.

It's too cold to remove our clothes and we really shouldn't do this - here - of all places, where anyone could simply discover us by chance. We sure as hell should move it to somewhere else, to somewhere more comfortable, to somewhere safe, but I'm too far gone to care.

I need it all gone! NOW! Now, fucking now! My hands frantically tugging and pulling clumsily at his clothes, only managing to dishevel his perfect appearance and only superficially allowing me to reach his skin.

But it's instantly better and I sigh in contempt as my palms press themselves against his skin, strangely moist as though he's been sweating all this time. I saw him fight or chasing deviants for impossibly long periods of time, there was never a sweat drop or labored breathing, but this?

I feel his hands gliding down my body, over my clothed breasts, over my waist and straight down my panties – me shrieking out in surprise over everything else. He halts, but only for a second before moving directly into them and cupping my dripping hot core. I would have almost screamed, my head shooting back against the wall in the sheer effort to contain the bliss.

I feel his eyes on me, while mine are shut tight, bulking against him as he moves his fingers in and out of me. My breath shudders and hitches, having trouble with simply fucking everything. Still I want more, there can't be possibly enough, some part of me already regrets that this whole thing will be over all too soon anyway, when it didn't even properly start.

Two long fingers, curving themselves in perfect degree, probing me gently, while his thumb plays with my clit. I squeeze myself around him, hiss and suppress a moan. I don't want to imagine how I must look like in his eyes, a pathetic human being undone by my primitive urges, he could do anything to me now and I wouldn't mind. It is amazing to be impaled repeatedly, being stretched and stroked, while the pressure and speed against my clit just grows.

He pulls out suddenly and I contract against the feeling of emptiness, eyes flying open and unbelievably staring at his wondrous face as he examines his wet fingers like it there would be some kind of evidence written on them. I can tell what he's just about to do, but he catches my stare and smiles so incredibly satisfied with himself that it seems misplaced on his face. "I can stop now if you want." His grin widens as he sees the color draining from my face. But thanks to all gods out there, he doesn't, swiftly pulling my pants down to my knees, opening his belt and freeing himself.

My voice crying out slightly, a humble, meek sound of distress. It's sliding lustfully between my folds and he's just watching, analyzing, piercing me with his eyes. He's inhumanly hot. My muscles ache from the effort of holding this position, from the trembling which never ceases, eyes tearing in need. Jolts and flashes of ecstasy, he wily creates at the spot where his body rubs against mine, travelling all over my body, spreading from my center. I'm a sobby, needy mess and I swear he's enjoying seeing me like this.

My arousal a slick, sticky goo, smearing itself all over his soft hardness, dripping freely to the floor, squeezed out from our locked limbs. "Connor, please, please." I'm down to begging, my futile resistance attempts all long forgotten. I need him, even if I would have to sell my soul to have him, I would.

"Tell me how you feel." He whispers impossibly hot and intimate against my ear, impassively proceeding to rub himself against my aching entrance. I feel my core clenching, desperately searching to press something.

"I, I…" What the hell is he doing to me? Why now? I can't possibly form a clear sentence, but wholeheartedly know he won't grant me fulfillment just right now.

"I'm burning. I need it." I whimper, kissing his throat, fingers clawing against his jacket. His hand cups my breast, sliding in through the clothes and grazing my nipple, gently squeezing it in affirmation, but still nothing changes.

"I'm mad. Just fill me." He huffs and his speed increases, the heat intensifies. I'm so close to come and he hasn't even entered me yet.

"Connor, I can't. I just have to have you." I actually start to wheeze as he finally, oh god finally, sinks himself into me.

We both freeze for a good few moments, my lungs contracting in the pitiful attempt to catch up with the sudden richness. And bless all the gods out there, he starts to move. Immediately building up pressure, skillfully finding the right angle which also includes a slight pressure to my clit with each movement, analyzing and processing every sound I make, every so slight reaction and twitch of my body. My mind clouded, it's just too much pleasure, delivered too perfectly, too fast. I contract and come, breathing his name, but he still doesn't stop. Pressing me further against the cold wall and I'm in no shape to complain.

His hot breath hitting the exposed skin of my neck, running up my face and evaporating in the cold air. He's a machine, my android, has me perfectly trapped between his body and the wall and just proceeds moving. It's a steady, controlled rhythm, never ceasing, never stopping and just entices me all over again.

I don't even know if he also needs to come, if he calculated that I'm just not yet ready for him to stop, or if he even knows how to make me come a second time. Honestly at this very moment I don't want to live past the point where he will stop, don't want to face the consequences. I melt in his arms, releasing the tension of my muscles and just let him hold and control my body.

He hoarsely whispers against my ear, his usually soft voice cracking in static and I shudder. "I think, I'm doing this well." He manages to be so unbelievably intimate, to unwrap my very soul as he speaks. This is the moment I feel it again, the yet not quite satisfied need lurking in the core of my body, gliding to the surface with every single beat of his shaft.

I love him and being melted to his body like this rips me apart. I've never imagined, never even allowed myself to dream, least of all to hope. I cry and sob because my feelings burst from the confinement of my very being. He stops, concerned searching my face. "I'm sorry" Reassuring him with a smile while my tears are flowing unimpededly. "It's just, been a while." I'm such a mess, to cry while having sex. Having _for once_ , the deep craving, the emptiness, the darkness, filled – it's just too much. I can't handle it, I just can't.

Still not quite assured, he nods and then leans in for an intimate, wet kiss. He's so caring, so gentle, his mouth searching, tongue gliding over mine, but his lower part never stops moving – rocking himself steadily against me, which sheers drives me mad.

His thumb glides down between us and circles my sensitive spot once again, I arch into his body, needing him to speed up, to pressure a bit more, to sink himself deeper. His tongue entices my mouth, like an own living being, striking, playing with mine. His LED dancing in yellow light this whole time, speeds up with every passing second.

"I enjoy this far more than you believe." He whispers against me, my heart picking up, hurting in my chest. "You were right, watching someone react, as you caress …" and he increases the pressure against my clitoris. "as you thrust…" He sinks himself even deeper. "as you induce them with your emotion." I feel his words against my skin, while hyperventilating against his shoulder. "It's such a pleasure watching you react as this, especially because of me." Fuck, I howl and my crying intensifies as my feelings for him just shred me into small pieces. Shuddering in his embrace I come for the second time.

Wondrously he ceases moving, studying my body going complete out of control. Then his LED falls red, as he closes his eyes and whispers against me. "Hold out just for a moment longer." And then he speeds up, impossibly fast, but still somewhere careful, like he's all about restraining his strength. It doesn't hurt, but holy shit does it feel intense.

I'm appalled to realize that he's about to come himself, I didn't even know androids could! Holy hell! He squeezes my body, arms tightening around my back, buries his face into my shoulder and pumps in hard, fast strokes and gosh am I for real? The not quite ebbed down orgasm of mine just _prolongs_. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize how loud I must be, but I couldn't care less. And then I clearly feel it, he freezes, his member still pulsing and a warm liquid finally spurting into me. Shocked I watch his face - eyes fluttering like where he straight up downloaded new information into his brain.

Few long seconds of silence as our bodies come down from this insane _something_ and my mind just races with questions. "What! What was that?" He inclines his head in confusion, as I plug my fingers into myself, pulling out some sort of clear, slightly blue liquid out of me. Not quite believing that he literally just came into me! He chuckles at my horrified face. "Don't worry, you won't get pregnant." As if that was what I was asking!


	14. Chapter 13

„So, what are we waiting for?" Nervously switching the weight from one leg to another I look around the perimeter. Somehow it _feels_ like we're not supposed to be here. Connor unfazed by my stress calmly examines some invisible traces around the entrance.

"There is no need to be nervous. Although Hank definitely has his grumpy moments, I've estimated an above average probability that he will be delighted to see me." By his shy smile I can tell that he's been waiting for this opportunity and is most likely using any excuse, just so I won't change my mind.

"Above average, aha…" He turns around to glance at my expression and seems to be confused about my sarcastic remark.

"65,6787% to be exact." He inclines his head slightly to the right to emphasize the value of this information, just to find me utterly unfazed. Yep, just as I thought. It's incredible how easily I can read his intentions already.

"Yeah, yeah, got it, can we ring now?" But just as he was about to press the doorbell I notice out of the corner of my eye an approaching car. This in itself shouldn't be something special, but due to the fact that it's a taxi, instead of normal residential vehicle and that the visiting hour is particularly late, I feel instantly alarmed. It could also just be my guts warning me.

Unceremoniously I grab Connors arm and drag him into the bushes. He doesn't question me, there is only a short curious look and his endless patience.

Just as I was afraid of, the car stops right before the yard to Hanks house and my blood freezes on the sight who exits the vehicle. Just to be sure I glance back to my right, to reaffirm myself that the android didn't teleport himself to troll me. This time Connor seems not one bit surprised, his LED blinks slightly in a soft blue light, indicating that he's processing this incident like your everyday occasion. Sure, we knew there is a doppelganger running around, I wonder how it would be like if they met and talked.

Unaware of our presence the other Connor smoothly makes his way to the front door and without even knocking pushes it open, almost like he knew it wasn't locked in the first place. We exchange a curious look before I drag him carefully through the garden, glancing into each window we find, in hopes of not losing his sight. My worries were unfounded, because he stops after crossing straight through the living room.

Right in the kitchen sits an old man in front of the table, staring wordlessly onto a digital picture and wearing such a grim expression one might think someone just died. We've seen him briefly in the Eden Club, together with the other RK800 model. He's the guy we came here to visit.

"I came to say goodbye, Lieutenant." Hank only looks up to the other Connor without wording anything. Connor seems irritated of the lacking response, obviously searching for the best approach in this situation. One can hear the small whimper of a dog somewhere in the house. "I know I'm responsible for what happened, Lieutenant. I want you to know I'm sorry." Still no reaction.

Meanwhile I turn my attention to the Connor besides me. "What the hell is going on? Why is he here at this time? You assured me it will be completely safe!" I'm furious, but have to whisper while grabbing him on his necktie and shooting deadly glares into his beautiful eyes. For some reason the kitchen window is missing and I can't risk raising my voice.

"I'm sorry. According to my calculation there was only a slim chance we would be disturbed. Look, this way we might learn more about what was happening in those days I was absent from my mission." He tries his excusing puppy smile on me, full knowing I'm weak to it and it makes me even more angry.

"I know I've said this before, Lieutenant, but you should stop drinking. It's going to kill you." Earning himself just a desolate laugh. The atmosphere in the room screams that something horrible must have happened and his choice of words just emphasized the bitterness.

It's bizarre watching another Connor like this, saying those not quite appropriate things. They supposed to be exactly the same, but I can't completely overlap him with the one version I know, but also can't completely dismiss the thought he wouldn't phrase it similarly. Given the situation, would my Connor really say the same things?

"Y'know, every time you died and came back, it made me think of my son. I'd give anything to hold him again, but humans don't come back." This is the first time I notice a revolver on the table. Again, there should be nothing special about the fact that a police lieutenant is owning one. However, a cold shiver runs through my body and I unconsciously inch closer to the open window. Connor places a firm hand on my shoulder, in a silent warning for me not to reveal myself prematurely, or since he can he tell my level of distress, does he try to reassure me?

"I understand." That's the last thing we hear the other Connor speak, before he looks down to the floor like a beaten dog.

A moment of silence but I feel the conflict in the room worsen. "Now leave me alone. Go on complete your mission. Since that's all you care about." He still hesitates, still searches for something to say. What in gods name did he do? What could the other Connor possibly have done so wrong to deserve this kind of treatment, to have driven the old man to this state?

Hank knows no mercy and just shouts so loud through the room that not only the android, but also both of us get startled. "GET OUTTA HERE!" I don't know what I expected, but certainly not for Connor just to turn around and leave. Didn't he see the gun? Can't he tell what the old man is about to do?

Accusingly I turn around, fully knowing that it wasn't _him -_ who just fucking left an obviously suicidal guy to his fate. But Connor seems not to notice and continues to stare through the window, his body growing tense. That's when I gasp in shock, as I see the whole event unfolding right in front of my eyes.

Hank looking at the picture in his hand, glancing to the front door and taking a deep breath as he grabs his gun. No, no, no, no! I don't know this man, I don't have a clue what his issue is, or which course of events has driven him to this point, but I'm perfectly aware what he's about to do.

Stirring out of my trance, violently shaking Connors shoulder and absurdly enough - whispering my command. It's accompanied by a high-pitched underflow of my voice, like it got stuck somewhere in the middle of my throat. Muscles clutched tightly in distress, only two words leave my mouth: "STOP HIM!"

Somewhat violently showing the full grown, super heavy android through a way too small window, he doesn't even get the chance to nod. Unbelievably enough, he rolls off the fall graciously as he lands on the other side of the window. But my ears already hear even through my thundering heartbeat, a horrible, bloodcurdling sound.

– klick, klick, klick –

In a fast, determined motion, going through the empty slots of his revolver. And then …

BANG!

A few seconds of motionless silence. I can clearly see it and still my mind has a hard time following the pictures. A dog suddenly cries a distressed call through the whole house, while everything else still seems frozen in time.

Clumsily I was about to climb through the window as well, but my hand slips on the windowsill and I tumble unceremoniously to the floor. The dog rushes into the kitchen, still howling his soul out. Poor animal, even my ears are still ringing. A real gun makes far more noise than it's usually shown in the movies, in an enclosed small space like in a house it's even worse.

Except for the dog, everything else is still silent. A few moments while everyone just stares wide eyed on each other, not really comprehending what just happened. Connor in his unstoppable mode threw himself full force against the man, not only having the chair but also them both thrown to the floor, his right wrist firmly packed in a deadly grip, the revolver pointing above both of their heads.

My heart still pulsing a fast staccato against my chest, I quickly scan Connors body, almost expecting some blue blood suddenly to soak through his clothes. Hank is just staring perturbed at his assailant, not quite following where the guy just came from. And then all three of us, in weird union dreadfully stare to the door where the other Connor just has left.

He definitely must have heard the gun shot, even if not, the dog still makes such a ruckus, that everyone on the street must be aware. He couldn't have gotten any further than just a few steps. Enthralling minutes tick by, where no one dares to move or make a sound. Connor is already scanning the room, I can already tell he's planning the escape route for us to take, as soon as the front door opens again.

But it never happens.

Wait a minute? Is he for real? Isn't he gonna come back? Isn't he gonna check on his partner? What the actual fuck?! The other two guys in the room must have come to the same conclusion, but before Hank has the chance to shout more insults in Connors face, the other already quickly covered his mouth, which only refueled their struggle.

Wobbling from all the stress, I reluctantly find the use of my legs again, as I quickly make my way over to the distressed animal. "Hi poor … dog" - "Sumo, his name is Sumo." I hear Connor voicing out the pets name.

"Alright, poor – Sumo - everything is fine, calm down." Pointing into the direction where Hank is effectively pressed down. "See, your owner is all healthy over there making out with an android." I can hear the struggling attempts intensify, but I know that against this CyberLife model there is no budging.

Thankfully the dog seems to have a very gentle and placid character, calms down quickly and promptly makes his way over to his owner to lick his face. He's fuming with rage, the face red from the exertion and now he's getting wetter by the minute, although the dog couldn't care less in his unstoppable slobbery affection.

"Hi Hank, or should I rather say hi to the almost poorly splattered brain cells?" I say kneeling right above him, amused over his deadly glares. Honestly, I wish my smile would at least maintain the friendly facade, but I just can't hide my mischievous grin about how he's pinned down by an android, while he's still being assaulted by his own dog.

"If you promise me not to shout and potentially alert unwanted visitors to our presence, we can attempt to have a friendly little talk, right?" Without any delay Hank nods his head and after being released, quickly jumps to his feet pushing the android away. Connor graciously positions himself between us, seemingly satisfied with himself.

"So, would anyone here care to explain what the actual fuck is going on here?!" Without waiting for a response, he bombards us with questions while pacing through the kitchen.

"I just saw you leave through the front door! Is CyberLife now building a teleportation feature in to their plastic, just for general welfare or what?" – Funny, that was my first thought too.

"And where the actual fuck did you drag up this chick Connor?!" Pointing at me, like I of all people would be the cause of his problems.

Let's just say I react poorly to open hostility, not that I could claim being socially skilled anyways. I promptly answer him with a sarcastic rhetorical remark, instead of easing him into the situation. "You're aware that all the androids are wearing serial numbers right on the front of their jackets?"

"Serial fucking what!?" I can't tell if either Hank doesn't have the patience after the incident, or if he's as unreasonable in general.

Connor must have read my question from my face. "Long time no see lieutenant. You're just as irritable as always."

"Now what? Did you get hit by the fucking lightning in the one second you stepped out of my door and gonna tell me all over again that your predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, yada yada!?" We exchange glances, not quite following the ramble. Lightning? What is he talking about? Did some fragment of the bullet actually damage his head?

"How many times did I die lieutenant?" Unsurprisingly Connor seems to have caught on already, while I still ponder about the implications.

"You're asking me? Are we in the wrong movie right now!" Rather in the wrong fanfiction, but I shall not go as far as to breach the fourth wall. Hank picks up the discarded chair, grabs the half empty bottle of whiskey and takes a sip for good measure.

"Hank, I …" Connor is at loss for words, while I calmly wait for the guy to explain himself. Quite curious to see his reaction - upon hearing that this Connor is the original partner he's been assigned with.

But to mine and Hanks surprise Connor doesn't start off with the monotonous introduction. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you at the highway." Hanks head shoots up in confusion and my heart jumps as I'm reminded vividly of the day when this whole nightmare began.

"You were right, I shouldn't have risked my life chasing those girls across the highway. I shouldn't have cornered them in the first place, so they wouldn't be as desperate to run through there themselves!" I've rarely heard him speaking so fast, it must have bothered him for quite a while, especially after witnessing this fiasco. Some part of me wants to gently call out his name, to tell him that's alright to make mistakes sometimes. That should he have made a different decision, I would never had met him. But exactly for this reason, this emotional, inappropriate reason - I'm rendered silent and just stand there.

"Why are you bringing back this old shoe?" Hank seems surprised, but endlessly tired.

It's interesting watching his face shifting from mild confusion, to utter disbelief as Connor flashes his coy smile. "Hello lieutenant, may I reintroduce myself? My name is Connor, I was originally send by CyberLife to assist in your investigations as the very first prototype. I got almost destroyed in the car crash at the M-8 while chasing two suspects against your clear instructions." His machine like summary is more of a joke than Hank could possibly handle at this point - perplexed looking between us, eyes searching for a clue that this is some sort of elaborate prank and a tv-crew might jump out of the closet by any minute.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Throwing his hands in the air, as no one of us makes the attempt to laugh it off, he eventually submits to the fact, that his brain can't possibly follow the rapidly unraveling events.

"Almost lieutenant, but I wouldn't want to be as presumptuous to go this far." Damn, I love his inappropriate jokes. Too bad that Hank obviously doesn't.

"Oh, I give up alright? There I thought this whole world couldn't possibly sink into shit any deeper." Although his speech started out resigned, it quickly grows more agitated.

"And then you pop back in here, after all this time and want make me believe, that you - " He grabs Connor at his shirt and I gasp inaudibly as he throws him against the wall. Maybe he indeed went too far with the stupid joke, but nothing justifies this violent reaction!?

"YOU!" He throws a punch into Connors face. It connects so hard that his head gives in under the blow. Almost mechanically he snaps back, but there is no rage in his expression, his face is completely blank, apologetic even.

"Didn't die in the fucking car crash after all!" Before he can land a second hit, Connor expertly escapes the assault and the whole thing quickly turns into a brawl.

I know that Connor could put an end to this very quickly, but the attempt not to hurt his counterpart is way harder to execute than to simply knock him out. "You fucking prick! So, you're sorry and now what?" Connor dodges a few times, crashes against the counter but refrains from grabbing any objects lying around to use as defense or as a weapon.

"Do you even know what your countless successors did?!" Not only the just placed back chair, but all of his brothers fly through the room as Connor is thrown across the table, slides across it on his back and quickly jumps to his feet on the other end, by performing a backwards flip.

"I obviously don't, or I wouldn't have asked." He blocks a blow with his elbow, grabs Hanks arm and tries to pin it behind him, by spinning the Lieutenant around, using his own momentum against him.

"As if you would have done anything differently!" Hank is seriously pissed, I can tell he's about to use his full strength. He strikes Connors knee with his foot, aiming behind himself and simultaneously throws the poor android above his shoulder. I'm surprised the table didn't split in two as Connor lands with his whole weight on it for the second time this evening.

"I know you Connor." He huffs exhausted, looming above him, both hands placed on the table between Connors face.

"I know perfectly well what you're capable off." I exhale my breath I didn't notice I was holding. The fight seems to be over, as suddenly as it has begun. Connor doesn't dare to move, just glancing up to the man above him.

"There is no mercy. No emotion. There is only your FUCKING MISSION!" He slams his hand on the table with an audible pang, but Connor doesn't even flinch.

"and it was there from the very beginning." The old man completely drained himself, his posture is slummed, I'm afraid he will collapse any minute.

"Maybe it was." Finally, Connor decides to speak up.

"Maybe you're right." Slowly he rises up from the table, not once loosing the sight of Hanks accusing stare. It's the typical men-thing to sort out conflicts with fists. Soon enough they will drink themselves into a coma and everything will be alright and forgiven. I can tell that the old man doesn't really want to be mad at Connor, he doesn't really want to harm him or he would have smashed his head in as he lied there on the table before him.

"But it's not any longer." And with this, he clearly looks me in the eyes. My heart jolts in surprise, speeding up from zero to hundred from simple eye contact. Huh? What was that? But Connor turns his attention back to the man near him and leaves me alone with figuring out the strange feeling of sudden excitement, mixed with some sort of guilt.

"I'm sorry I couldn't fulfill your expectations. I only recently learned to understand, … everything." Wait, what does he mean?

"But now I'm finally here to inform you, that I was regrettably unable to assist you, since she corrupted my program." Hank doesn't even spare me a glance.

"Fucking android, in case you haven't noticed. Your spitting image already found all the deviants out there! I don't need any more fucking assistance." We haven't watched television since escaping my apartment. Did I miss out on the recent news? We've spend so much effort in fruitlessly locating Jericho, but now the other Connor has already found them? Does it mean they're all destroyed? Are we really too late?

"Somewhere around three times. I've lost count at some point, not that it ever mattered." We're both confused about Hanks sudden calm and collected statement, seemingly coming out of nowhere. They say deviants are unpredictable, now try five minutes in lieutenant Andersons proximity.

"Are you alright lieutenant, did I damage your head?" Earning himself promptly a hit at the back of his, almost a fatherly gesture, almost.

"That's how many times you died, to answer your question."

I finally rejoin the conversation. "Tsk, you're highly ineffective Connor. And then you ask me why I've put your safety at the top of your priority list." Although initially I regretted this decision, now I'm quite proud with myself. But three times can't be quite right, on his jacket was a clear – 55 displayed as the ongoing serial number.

"Well once I shot one of the bastards myself." Hank chuckles, rubbing his beard. Although I'm usually all in, for inappropriate, obscure, grim jokes, this one time I really don't feel like laughing.

"You shot him?!" Without much thought I'm all up and move myself between them. Fully knowing that his gun is currently safely out of reach, but you never know.

"Heh, are you protecting him now kid? Don't waste your effort." On the surface one might really assume, that he hates androids from the bottom of his heart. There is a deeply rooted pain, a dark, dangerous pain, overshadowing everything. I'm all too familiar with this bottomless pit myself and I know what it allows us to do.

"He's worth of my effort and of my whole protection. I value him above anything!" I almost hiss my reply, body tensed up. It was obviously a completely horrible idea to search here for shelter. Connor says nothing behind me, but he grips my shoulders gently and squeezes them. If I wouldn't know any better I would assume he enjoys sending my heart racing. At least it effectively soothes me down.

"Who are you anyway?" Hank still looks like he really doesn't want to know. Making also not quite the impression of a polite person, there must be another reason for asking.

"Well, my car was the one hitting him and I kind of, might have, maybe, well, kidnapped him right afterwards, sorry." Fumbling with my fingers I reluctantly admit to my crime.

"You don't say." Mildly phrased, I'm surprised that a police lieutenant is so completely disinterested in the delict. Anyone else would jump on the chance to hand me over to the authorities and earn some points with the higher ups, especially when we just voluntarily barged into his home.

"Anyways lieutenant. We're here because we hoped you could give us information about the deviants, but …" Connor seems lost and perturbed and then promptly asks the question about the elephant in the room, everyone tries to ignore. "But why did you just try shooting yourself?"

Hank doesn't answer and just looks away from us.

Connor is anything but not persistent. "What did you mean with, every time my model died, it remined you of your son?" Watching Hanks face I fear for a moment he might attack Connor once again, but instead he just wordlessly picks up the photo from the floor, calmly walks back to the living room and drops to the couch. Sumo follows him dutifully, never leaving his owners side.

"Cole." Unsure what to do, we just follow him too, to sit on the opposite site of the couch, as soon as we hear him talk.

"His name was Cole. He died in a car accident." Clutching the digital picture, he looks up at Connor and his face is filled with indescribable pain.

"It's funny how you, of all things, are the one to finally ask me that question." I already predict Connor interrupting and just gently put my hand on his knee, silencing him precautionally.

"I've known you the least amount of time compared to all the other models send by CyberFuck and it might be just my imagination, but your whole attitude just changed after your first … death." Gripping his face into his hands, he then just proceeds to sit still. Both of us feel uneasy, not fully knowing how to approach the inflammable lieutenant.

Connor is first to break the silence in an awkward attempt to apologize once again, and there I thought I was the one being human. "I understand why you were so upset. I could simply come back unscratched, while your son couldn't. I'm sorry Lieutenant." Wordlessly Hank just looks up, before looking down again.

"Not exactly unscratched, I've had to replace half of your hardware, it had cost me a fortune." I throw into the all too silent room, can we now please just finally get over the melodrama? As long as Connor is fine and kicking I couldn't care less about anything else.

"Guys I'm choking over the serious mood in here." This time it's Connors turn to squeeze my knee, as I earn a grumpy eye from Hank. Just a tiny bit more practice and he will be able to kill with his glare.

"Why did you stick with that human abomination again?" He must have read my thoughts, smart old lieutenant. I like perceptive, dark people. I kinda even like him, I would like him even more if he would stop offending me.

"That's a long story lieutenant. But she's right, it's late and we should continue this conversation tomorrow morning." His palm leaves my knee and promptly lands on my head, petting my hair as we exchange deadly stares with Hank.

"Oh! You're NOT gonna stay here for the night!" That's actually why we came here for, amongst other reasons. But since we've witnessed first hand how he was just about to end his life, we'll do shit and leave him unattended.

"Correction, we will and I also will confiscate this revolver." Connor picks up the thing from the floor and suspiciously scans the room, most likely searching for even more weapons.

"Oh no, you won't." It's too late, the android already tucked the gun away into the back of his trousers.

"Your gun privileges have been revoked Lieutenant." Smiling the awkward – sorry - apology.

"What in seven hells name did you do to him girl?" Thankfully Hank doesn't really care enough to intervene physically, but he's clearly not pleased to be treated as a child.

"Don't ask, I get headaches even thinking about it. Let's just say I'm not the best software developer out there." Connor went a long way from our first bumpy introduction, now to the quite suddenly intimate relationship. And all that in just five days. I have the feeling I know him for way longer, most likely because of the array of events I've been assaulted with.

"Ah, fuck, whatever. You both can take the bedroom. I have to think." Like _his_ bedroom?

"No way! I'm perfectly fine with the couch and I would also suggest that you leave the bedroom door open for tonight." Too bad I can't hack humans to prevent them from doing something stupid. I'm really too exhausted to stand watch on the man, but I'm sure Connor will notice anything unordinary this way.

"For fucks sake! I'm NOT GONNA KILL MYSELF TONIGHT ALRIGHT?" Sumo barks once in confirmation, wagging his tail, as though he'll keep watch on his owner now in our stead. I'm not so much of a dogs person, but I really like that boy. "Now get your asses into the bedroom and do your funny android-owner business, just get out of my sight for five minutes!"

"We, we…" I stutter about the inappropriate accusation, is it that obvious? We _just_ progressed in our ' _relationship'_ to this point!

"I hold you for your word lieutenant." Connor quickly shoves me into the bedroom, before I can get any redder.

"You really think it's alright?" He seems to trust him to the point of obliviousness. I wouldn't be so quick to judge the complexity of human emotions. Although he seems fine for now, scars which go as deep as this can spring open again any minute.

"I've read his physical parameters. It's highly unlikely that he will do anything again tonight." He's completely relaxed, walking slowly through the room and taking in the small objects on the shelves. Give him five minutes of time and he's all up to scanning any random stuff he can find.

"I really hope so." I sigh, discarding the worst of my clothes and quickly jumping into the bed before he turns around and sees me in my underwear. I really shouldn't be shy now, we're definitely past this point.

There is a large wall closet, but he's not as disrespectful to open it and rummage through. Inspecting intently the two paintings on the walls and the 'Century magazine' containing an article about depression, I've already had the chance to read myself once. He lingers on the next story though – 'Tainted love' – covered in big white letters I can spot from here, about android intimate partners, how most people prefer robots instead of human relationships. It's quite popular, so of course I've researched it _quite_ a bit. His eyes travel up from the electronic device and straight back to me. This fucking old man, why does he have a magazine about _this topic_ in his bedroom?

My face heats up as I avoid his thoughtful gaze. "Oh, ahm…" We haven't talked about it yet and I really don't want to. Most likely it was just a one-time thing for him, his vivid curiosity must have gotten out of hand. It's not like I expect him to service me from now on, just because he gave in once into my needs. The silence just stretches, when I search for the right words.

While I struggle with my thoughts, he just places himself on the far corner of the bed and awkwardly folds his hands into his lap. Closing his eyes, with the indication that he's just about to start his standby mode.

"Connor, don't be ridiculous. I know you need to do your maintenance and it's horribly awkward if you sit on the corner of the bed like that." I spoke before thinking.

"I can also stand if you like." I vividly remember him looming above at night once. No, I definitely don't need a repetition of that night. The image of him staring me down in the darkness - I would be doing anything, but falling asleep.

"For fucks sake. Just lie down, I promise not to bite – I'm too exhausted to do so." I append the joke to the end of my sentence to lighten the strange nervousness in the air.

"Is there any position you would prefer?" He didn't just say that, did he?

"Just, just turn your back to me." I gulp as he quickly discards his tie, neatly folds the jacket onto the chair and is just about to open the countless buttons of his blouse. It's reasonable not to stain the bed with wet clothes. I quickly turn around, way too flustered to watch him strip so casually. Damn what in seven hells name is wrong with me? Why do I voluntarily pass on the chance to look?

Clutching the sheets, I just listen to the rustle of clothes, like a virgin on her first night of marriage. As soon as his warm back hits mine, our skin completely exposed to each other, I almost let out a careless gasp slip from my mouth. God, who knew it could feel so nice to have someone else's warmth spreading against your body.

"Connor?" Guilt.

"Yes?"

"If you really don't like it, you can also stand or sit back down, you can take the armchair over there. It's not an order you know." Maybe he should have stayed with Hank after all.

"I like it." He really has to phrase those things better. My poor heart.


	15. Chapter 11

It burns through my veins like molten lava, the sheer terror of the situation. They teared down their jackets in their fight, there is no way to tell by the conveniently placed serial number up front who of them is the real – **mine** – Connor.

"Stop it!" I scream and it echoes through the impossibly large underground hall. Lifeless androids filling the ranks between the small path through the room. I have to interfere, I HAVE TO. Should I simply watch on, they would only end up destroying each other. BOTH of them matching in strength, reactions and decisions. They would fight until I inevitably loose both of them, or until reinforcements arrive and we all get arrested. The more time passes the worse the situation gets for us, only the – us – a bright burning _instability_ in my mind. Because I can't tell who is whom anymore.

They back off from each other, hands declawing from their bodies, reluctantly releasing hair and clothes as the gun _dances_ in my hand. I shake so violently I'm pretty sure I would hit anything but them right now, there is no telling about the outcome of this situation.

How in gods name should I decide? It's painfully obvious that I don't have the slightest clue what to do.

"How about asking us a question only both of us know about?" An exasperate gesture, arms open widely and full of distressed emotion. The other stays calm and composed, nodding in gentle affirmation. There is no way to tell for sure what of it is actually genuine or what is simulated. This particular version could have already received upgrades simulating deviant behavior and confusing me more cunningly than Connor is _already_ capable of.

"What is the name of my cat?" I ask in the round, readying myself to shoot the one who remains silent.

"Catsup." The answer comes out of his mouth before I even properly finished the question. I should take the opportunity and shoot, now! But, my hand starts to tremble with unexplainable _hesitation_ and hear the other one silently murmuring, confusion written all over his face. "He downloaded my memories."

"That isn't possible! I've blocked all access to your system. I won't fall for that!" Earning a look that speaks volumes about my competency in hacking. Alright, alright, there might be a _chance_ they've found a loop hole, we're in the middle of the CyberLife tower after all – the location itself might grant them different access possibilities.

"Ok, then a question for you as well." I point towards the still puzzled Connor and then promptly turn to the one who just answered the previous question. "And don't **you** dare answer that one also, or I will shoot you on the spot!" I'm not as confident as I make it sound. Honestly the panic gradually taking the better of me, but I try my best to keep it at bay for now. I still have a bit of time. Just a bit.

I know I should ask something about myself, but he's capable of downloading any public and most likely also private information about me, since I'm a normal citizen. It should be different concerning information of a police lieutenant, everything about the employees of the state is strictly classified, even CyberLife can't risk hacking straight away into their database. But what could my Connor possibly know, what the one who spend more time with him wouldn't? Wait a minute…

"What is the name of Hank's son?" I remember perfectly, he said he never told any of the other RK800 models, just us. Hopefully *I* acutally remember the name, or it will get embarrassing. What was it again? Chloe? Ridiculous, that's a girl's name! Cole? That should be about right. "Cole." It comes evenly without hesitation, at least androids have perfect memory for names.

Fuck. Maybe Hank mentioned the name casually and forgot about it. Maybe the other Connor found it out on his own? I should have sticked to questions about myself, I didn't get any closer to find out the real one.

"One more question." And again, I threateningly shift to the Connor who answered the very first one. "Don't interfere! I know you know about myself already." The gun flowing between them, ready to shoot the first one who acts out of space. Although they most likely already concluded that I'm not really up to the task to outright shoot the guy I hopelessly love, there is no telling how I will react given suddenly triggered reflexes.

"When was our first kiss?"

"In the infirmary, as I tried to get you back to your senses. Although slapping you might still have been the most sensible choice." The Connor to my right just got both of the questions perfectly _right_. But I can't just kill the other without giving him the same chances. The only problem is that there is nothing left to ask about Hank to even the odds.

"When did you turn deviant?" Maybe he won't know?

"On the couch in your living room, as you assaulted my fingers. I've hidden it the whole time, not wanting to upset you." The Connor to my left answers easily. There is relief, a clear, honest emotion - that I still give out chances, opposed to shooting the next best one, relying purely on my guts. There is a perfect 50-50 probability that I will be right, I should toss a coin.

"Where is your coin Connor?" I grasp on the idea like towards the last straw in a turbulent river. Both of them pull it out simultaneously of the right pocket of their trousers. Either it's a fucking incredible coincidence, my mind can't just grab upon - that both of them had it there, instead of the usual spot, hidden in the upper pocket of the jacket. Coincidence? No, if he downloaded his memories, he must have mimicked him down to very little detail before stepping into this room, almost if the fraud knew how the situation will turn.

I'm about to lose my mind. I feel my visioning almost turning white from the stress as the blood just boils through my fingers. I can't do this, I CAN'T! But I have to, I'm his only hope right now. The heaviness of the decision just crushing my insides, eating me alive. He's my everything, there is no life to return to without him, if I end up shooting him **myself** , with my own two hands – I would _deserve_ the pain following. I wouldn't be able to survive, but I will FORCE myself to, until I cough up blood and wither. I point the gun on my own head – I just can't take this responsibility.

"DON'T!" Both of them, like two pieces of a mirror, take a genuinely distressed step forward, hand outstretched but still too far away. It's ridiculous how similar they are, even if they personality developed approximately differently in the recent days.

"Don't come any closer!" I shout, gun shifting back towards them, frantically searching for a target, a clue giving away they real intentions. Just something, _anything_ written on their face. But even if I notice something, even if I notice a thousand somethings, there is still the enormous – what when you're wrong? – elephant in the room.

"Please … help me … Connor." The stress is too much, I don't remember **ever** experiencing such a bad moment. They must be clearly seeing the parameters jumping all over the place, it's a good thing that I'm not an android, I'm pretty sure I would have EXPLODED on the spot.

"I love you. Despite your ridiculous tampering with my code, despite you practically forcing me to stay at your side and do your bidding. I love your stupid jokes, the way you react in my proximity, the way you get flustered when you realize that I can read your lustful thoughts, the way your heartbeat jumps as soon as I say even the smallest nice thing to you. You shaped my whole personality in a way that shouldn't be even possible. Just follow your intuition." He doesn't dare to take a single step forward, he doesn't have to - it's all there, the most empathetic things an android couldn't possibly make up, spreading out like a carpet, steering my decision. And with it the gun towards the other Connor.

Aghast, face draining he just – stares – the other Connor down who just held the heart breaking – KDrama – level of romance dripping speech and I just can tell that his face falls in defeat. Right, what could POSSIBLY in all gods name be left to say to trump that. Almost mechanically his face jerks back towards me, right into the barrel which **still** trembles like a leaf, gathering the last determination to finally pull the trigger. I should just do it and get it finally OVER with. The ifs, the buts, the what's, raining on my subconsciousness like rocks, like boulders, I choke for air.

He smiles, unsure, lifting a corner of his lips. Mouth parting open for a second, still searching for something he could possibly say to change my mind. "It's ok." He chokes out. "Even if you shoot the wrong one of us, you could still keep the head as a paperweight." Huh? The joke is utterly stupid. Not funny at all in my miserable brain-dead state and still I hear my voice cracking a laugh on the image. "Or I will just bind it around my belt and go hunting for zombies." – A very old game. Although I should rather hunt down every last CyberLife employee instead, in a never ending mission for revenge. The joke was ridiculous, nothing any sane human would prioritize in front of the heart wrenching confession from before. But I scream and – shoot.

I shoot the guy who just told that he loves me, his right shoulder jerking back on the impact, unbelief forming in his face as he observes the damage and eyes trail slowly back to me. A clear – why – forming on his lips, without leaving a single sound. And I shoot again, hitting his leg, forcing him into a kneeling position. Even if I know, that I _must_ be right, that I've already made my decision. I just CAN'T TAKE THAT CHANCE – to kill him out right, with a clean precise shot to the front lobe, which would deactivate him immediately and irreversibly. I should remain logical, especially in this situation, it's too dangerous leaving him alive even for as much as a moment longer, but a dreadful feeling is spreading in my abdomen and I hesitate **again** , watching his eyes.

I would rather shoot myself, even on the miniscule chance of me being wrong – I just can't trust myself. It's like I'm cursed to make the wrong decision, destined to be left _alone_ , again. A sob, a guttural cry pawning itself from my insides as I realize that I can't take it anymore. And the android who is about to be put down looks honestly more concerned about my state then about his immediate destruction.

The Connor to my left takes a few hesitant steps towards me, placid, softly smiling, hands up in a soothing manner I SO OFTEN seen him take while approaching deviants or suspects, not to provoke any unexpected or spontaneous reaction. He kneels tentatively down before me, smile reassuring and warm, eyes almost bleeding out the praise – good girl, now give me that gun – without actually saying it out loud. For real he eases the impossibly heavy object out of my hands and I just can see _it_. Honestly, as if I would be an android myself, visioning the next events playing out in front of my crumbling consciousness. As soon as he stands tall again, loading the rest of the bullets into the kneeling android across, whose eyes are never leaving me, like wanting to imprint my sight into his memory.

There is logic. There is intuition. There is my heart already torn to shreds and leaving a pitiful mess of a broken human behind. I'm a weak, nerdy girl, never making sport or any soft or exercise, not standing a chance against a machine who was designed to comprehend rampaging, murderous robots. But I launch myself at the guy whom I decided just a few previous moments before to spare and claw my hands into his face, biting with full force in his throat, to prevent him for shooting approximately thousand bullet holes in the already damaged convict.

Although I love exactly this side of him - the terminator mode hidden deeply in my Connor as well, the ruthless, cold, destructive behavior, disregarding everything around him and not letting anyone or anything stopping him from accomplishing his task.

I guess my mind just broke, because I feel myself chewing the wires beneath of his skin, cutting sharply into my flesh, but I don't feel the pain. He tries to pull me off him with impossible strength, electricity shoots through my teeth as his body flays around, crushing into the immobile row of androids. It's not concernable damage – should I just have bitten the hell out of my own android, I'm sure he will understand eventually - should we make out of this mess alive that is.

The taste of copper, spreads through my mouth and my vision fogs red, he finally got me off his body, but I grasp his leg as he tries to stand up again. Honestly, I don't care anymore if he's the real one, most likely I'm just about to doom ourselves while the already shot Connor made his way towards the discarded gun and is about to get his fair revenge.

I'm just really, exceptionally miserable in making life concerning decisions. But then we hear it – Wake up – wake up – wake up.

A mantra repeating itself around us, the whisper seeping towards our hearing, softly flowing through the rows of androids, them steering out of their sleep in an impossibly fast rate. The Connor above me, breaking his leg free from my iron grasp and running frantically up and forth screaming – "NO! NO! No, it cannot be! I couldn't have FAILED my mission!" – The shot that follows, leaves my ears ringing and I just see in slow motion as he drops dead to his knees, right in front of me.

I scream in terror, catching his body in my arms, hands desperately searching his face for any signs of life.

But there aren't any.

My hands trying to remain at his LED, the ten seconds where my heart just wrenches out of my chest, because this time I know – there won't be any reaction. "Please! Please no." I feel my vision go dim for a second, pulling back out and seeing again only red fog around us. In confirmation my tremoring fingers touch my lips, there is not only my blood but as well some of the blue Thirium on them, I must have gotten some into my system as I've bitten him. Maybe I'm hallucinating? He cannot be dead! He just can't! I never heard a human make a sound like this, but I hear myself making it, eyes searching for the gun on the floor. Should there be any logic left in me I would know that the other Connor has it, that there is no easy way out of this agony.

"It's ok, shhht. Everything is alright now." He appears out of nowhere, kneeling right in front of our intertwined bodies.

"No, no, you've killed my Connor." I hug the dead body, rocking his lifeless form back and forth. Refusing to leave my eyes away from him even for a second.

"Sweetie, it's alright, I'm your Connor." He's about to peel my hands away, but I jerk and turn away, clawing myself even deeper into the hopelessness. My Connor would have considered my feelings, he wouldn't have shot him even if he knew the other was a 'fake'.

"No you're lying. You always lie. Don't pretend to be HIM! Just go, destroy the rest of the deviants! What are you still doing here!?" He gives up in peeling us apart and instead just embraces me from behind.

"You're in shock. Focus on my eyes." Turning my head towards him.

"You have his eyes." Deep, brown like the wood of a tree.

"I'm sorry." An expression of pain.

"Just leave me." But there is only guilt in me.

"There is no way I would leave you, unless you shoot me again." He strokes my head, fingers gliding through the threads of my hair, a hypnotizing, tentatively soothing motion.

"Give me the gun." I shake my head free, I can't let myself get pulled in so easily. I shouldn't. I'm not allowed to. If I give in to the enemy right now, it will be _worse_ than having him killed.

"I will prove to you that I'm yours. Always, forever, yours. I'm your android since you decided to scratch me up from the asphalt of the M-8 highway." He lays his head in the crook of my neck, whispering against my skin, pleading to believe him.

"Why do you even bother convincing me? CyberLife's androids for sure value human life in ridiculous manners, just go, fetch them over, throw me into prison for causing this mess!" My tears flow unimpededly as I ease my grip around the dead android and softly let him rest beneath me.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. I want to die." I close his eyes with my palm, the image of desperation and of – death – impregnated in his last glassy expression.

"I knew the probability was higher to convince you with a stupid joke. I just couldn't take the risk of disappearing from your life without telling you about my feelings." I turn around and claw my hands into his blouse and unceremoniously blow my nose into the thin cloth.

"Please, just kill me. I can't live without him, I, I can't, I simply can't bear it to be left alone again." I'm pitiful and disgusting on purpose, I want him gone, away from my body, not touching me, not encompassing me in his warmth.

"It's alright, I won't go anywhere, not without you. Don't you remember the requirement? I will stay at your side no matter what happens." He rocks me in his strong embrace, not budging against my struggling and pressing me just closer and closer against his chest.

"You don't understand. Even if CyberLife and the rest of humanity values the lives of fellow humans above everything. My life is worthless." I ignore his disappointed head shake, catching the movement between my palms. "I have the right to evaluate my own existence. I didn't live, for a single day before I met him. No matter what I did, I was always alone. There was not a thing I could share from the bottom of my heart. He's the only one keeping all of my broken pieces together."

"You sound like yourself again." He smiles, the jerk smile.

"Connor?"

"Stupid human." He pokes my nose with his finger.

"Agnnn, Connor, please be real." I could almost give in, almost. Convincing myself and lulling my mind in the foolishness I just **want** to become the reality.

"I am real. See?" Reaching out and pulling over the jacket to our side. "- 51, it's clearly written over here." Like it would be a valuable evidence, ignoring the other jacket right beside it.

"I don't believe you." I don't. Although the worst of it has gone numb, deep down I know I will never be able to be sure. Everyone at this point might say that I'm just being ridiculous. But my own intelligence is my worst enemy.

"You might be trying to convince me, only to get the chance to get closer to Markus." And my eyes are cold, although they aren't quite blue, I feel the iciness boring into him and him recoiling under my stare. "I know what CyberLife is capable of, I know what they're ultimately after. While you were having your fun down here, I hacked a bit into their system." His grip loosens slightly around my body. "You just want to become the new leader of the uprising. The ultimate control and the chance to squash all deviant androids at once." Frantically his eyes jump between mine, eyebrows risen up in disbelief. While my lips just curl up in a sarcastic snark.

He didn't expect that.

And then he just leans in and kisses me. Parting briefly a few moments afterwards, tongue licking up the blue and red blood on his lips, then leaning his forehead in, softly touching mine, eyes closed. Hand catching mine, parting my fingers and squeezing his between them. The gesture impossibly affectionate and _true_. I roar out sobs and desperation, because I want to believe it and then the world just faints to dark.


End file.
